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Giass_ \n 

Book 



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L 



MEMOIRS 



OF THE 



UDFE AND MINISTRY 



OF THE LATE 



REV. THOMAS SPENCER, 



OF 



LIVERPOOL: 



APPENDIX, 

CONTAINING A SELECTION FROM HIS PAPERS, &e£ 

BY THOMAS RAFFLES, 

HIS SUCCESSOR IN THE PASTORAL OFFICE, 

Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou kaowest no£ what a day msy 
bring forth. Jffr vf ' /% Solomon 

How many ^l as>*sudden, not as safe! % Yousfgk 

jif ... v 

Seand -American Edition: 

**>'*-•' HARTFORD: 

PUBLISHED BY GEORGE SHELDON, &f C<* , 

1814. 






m 



*s 



TO THE 

CHURCH AND CONGREGATION 

LATE UNDER THE PASTORAL CARE 
OF THE 

REV. THOMAS SPENCER, 

THESE 

MEMOIRS, 

COMPILED AND PUBLISHED AT THEIR REQUEST, 

AS A TESTIMOMY TO THE WORLD 

OF 

THE ADJURATION AND ESTEEM HIS GENIUS AND HIS PI^TY 

UNIVERSALLY INSPIRED; 

AND AS 

A GRATEFUL MEMORIAL OF HIS ACCEPTABLE LABORS 

AND 

TRANSCENDENT EXCELLENCIES, 

AS A MINISTER, AS A- MAN, AND AS A CHRISTIAN," 

ARE 

RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, 

BY THEIR AFFECTIONATE PASTOR AND SINCERE FRrENS, 

*}/' THOMAS RAFFLES. 



PREFACE. 



THE volume now presented to the public, owes its origin t© 
one of those mysterious events in Providence, which seem 
commissioned, at distant intervals, to alarm and admonish the 
Church of God. A loss so sudden, so awful, so universally 
deplored, as that of Mr. Spencer, demanded improvement. 
Many impressive discourses were delivered on the sad occa- 
sion, several of which have issued from the .press. But his 
life was not less instructive than his deaths and the more it 
was contemplated by his friends, the more deeply they felt 
the importance of rescuing from oblivion those traits of his 
character, and circumstances of his history, by which their 
own private circles had been interested. Upon my accept- 
ance of the solemn office from which he was so unexpected< 
Iy removed, his bereaved people, anxious to see some au- 
thorized memoirs of their beloved pastor embodied and pre. 
served, committed the mournful duty to my hands. My res- 
pect for the honored dead, and attachment to the living, in- 
duced me to accept the charge: how I have executed the 
important trust reposed in me, I must now leave it with a 
candid public to decide. 

Various causes have contributed to create the delay which 
has attended the publication of the book. It was with consid- 
erable difficulty that I collected the materials necessary for 
my purpose. ^ I had imagined, from the general impression 
which prevailed, at least amongst Mr, Spencer's friends, of 
the propriety of such a publication, that information would 
have been spontaneously offered from every quarter whence it 
might be furnished. But in this I was disappointed; and it 
was some considerable time from the annunciation of my de- 
sign, before I was sufficiently supplied to commence, .with 
any degree of prudence, the composition of the volume. 

In addition to this, the laborious duties of a new and most 
extensive charge, conspired often to suspend the prosecution 
of the work, for the appearance of which I knew many to be 
anxious, but none more so than myself. 
*1 



VI PREFACE. 

Had I at first anticipated the extent of these Memoirs, I 
should most probably have shrunk from the undertaking. 
But the volume has grown almost imperceptibly beneath my 
hand. What I have recorded of the dear departed is strictly 
true, so far as the veracity of the most excellent men can 
warrant the assertion; and whatever opportunity the narra- 
tive has afforded of administering instruction I have gladly 
seized, and conscientiously improved, leaving the issue to a 
Ihigher agent. 

I have at length completed the work; and now, with the 
deepest humility and diffidence, I resign it to the blessing 
of God — the consideration of friendship — and the candor of 
the public. If to those who knew and loved him, it shall 
sometimes recall, with grateful emotions, the image and the 
excellencies of tfyeir departed friend; if it shall induce any 
to emulate the bright example of his manly virtues, and his 
christian graces^ or if but one, anticipating or commencing 
the laborious duties of the christian ministry, shall derive 
from the contemplation of Spencer's character, instruction, 
caution, or encouragement— I am amply recompensed— I 
have not labored in vain! 

THOMAS RAFFLES, 
Toxteth Park, Liverpool, 
February 15th, IS 13. 



MEMOIRS, &c. 



Seldom has a task so painfully arduous fallen to the 
lot of a biographer, as that which, in the mysterious 
providence of God, has unexpectedly devolved on 
me. The recollection of departed excellence, which 
a long series of years had developed and matured, is 
mingled with a melancholy feeling, and not unfre- 
quently excites the tribute of a tear: but the individ- 
ual who erects a monument to friendship, genius, 
usefulness and piety, prematurely*wrapt in the obliv- 
ion of the grave, must necessarily prosecute his 
mournful work with trembling hands, and with a 
bleeding heart. And yet the mind is soothed by the 
communication of its sorrow; the bosom is relieved 
of an oppressive burthen while it tells the virtues of 
the friend it mourns; and the best feelings of the 
heart are satisfied with the consciousness, that instead 
of indulging in solitude the luxury of unavailing grief, 
it has employed its powers to portray, in lively 
colors, for the improvement of the living, the excel- 
lencies of the beloved and pious dead. For myself, 
with mournful pleasure, I hasten to sketch the rude 
outline of one of the loveliest and most finished char- 
acters the present age has known; — pausing only to 
express my deep regret, that one so ripe for heaven, 
and yet so eminently useful upon earth, should be 
called from the important sphere he occupied, so 
soon; and that to hands so feeble should be commit- 



ted, — together with the solemn trust which he resign- 
ed in death, the painful duty of erecting this monu- 
ment to his worth. 

The Reverend Thomas Spencer, was born 
at Hertford, January 21, 1791. — He occupied the 
third place out of four who surrounded his father's 
table, but shared equally with them in the tender and 
affectionate solicitude of parents, who, placed in the 
middle sphere of human life, were respectable for 
their piety, and highly esteemed in the circle in 
which a wise Providence had allotted them to move. 
It cannot be expected that any thing peculiarly in- 
teresting should mark the early childhood of a 
youth, retired from the observation of the world, and 
far removed from the presence of any of those cir- 
cumstances which might be considered as favorable 
to the excitation oMatent talent or the display of early 
genius. And yet the years of his infancy and child- 
hood were not undistinguished by some intimations 
of a superior mind, from which a thoughtful observ- 
er might have been induced to augur something of 
his future eminence, and which his amiable father it 
appears did with silence watch. He himself ob- 
serves, in a hasty sketch of his life, which now lies 
before me, — "As far back as 1 can recollect, my 
memory was complimented by many as being very 
retentive, and my progress in knowledge was more 
considerable than that of my school- fellows; a natural 
curiosity and desire of knowledge, I think I may 
say, without vanity, distinguished even the period of 
my infancy. I now remember questions that I ask- 
ed when about four years old, which were rather sin- 
gular, and which were confined chiefly to biblical 
subjects. No child could be more attached to 
places of worship, or could be more inquisitive 



k 



9 

about their concerns than myself; and I may add, 
more given to imitate the actions of the minister and 
clerk."* 

When he had completed his fifth year, he suffered 
the severest earthly privation a child can know, in 
the loss of an affectionate mother. Though then 
too young correctly to appreciate a parent's worth, 
he deeply felt the stroke; and in the liveliest man- 
ner he recalls the impression which at that early 
period this melancholy circumstance produced upon 
his tender mind. "When the funeral sermon was 
preached I could not help noticing the grief which 
seemed to prevade every person present. Deeply 
affected myself, I recollect, that after the service, 
as I was walking about our little garden with my 
disconsolate father, I said to him, 'Father, what is the 
reason that so many people cried at the meeting this 
afternoon.' — He, adapting his language to my com- 
prehension, said, 'They cried to see little children 
like you without a mother. "f This event, which 
shed so deep a gloom upon his family, seems to 
have excited emotions of a serious nature in his 
mind never totally effaced. 

From this time he applied himself with diligence 
and delight to the business of his school. There 
was at this early age something amiable and engag- 
ing in his manners; and this combined with his at- 
tention to his learning, soon secured the esteem and 
approbation of his respective teachers, and gained 
him, together with the first place and highest honors 
of his school, the character of "a good boy" It is 
pleasing to mark the early combination. of superior 
talent and sweetness of disposition in this extraordi- 

* M. S. MexMfah t ft* 



10 

nary young man; and it would be well, did the pat- 
rons of early genius more deeply ponder the reflec- 
tion, that the graces of a meek and quiet spirit are 
far more estimable than the rare qualities of a 
prematurely vigorous mind; and that the talents 
they cultivate with such anxious care, if unassocia- 
ted with real excellence of soul, may render the 
idols of their fond adulation sources of anguish 
to themselves and incalculable mischief to mankind. 
Whilst a school boy, he became passionately fond 
of novels, histories, adventures, Sec. which he de- 
voured with the greatest eagerness in numbers truly 
astonishing. The perusal of these he always pre- 
ferred to play and other amusements adapted to his 
years. He delighted much in solitude; nor did he 
know a happiness superior to that of being alone, 
with one of his favorite books. He took no delight 
in the games of his companions, nor did he ever min- 
gle in their little feuds. His natural levity, however, 
was excessive; and his wit, fed by the publications 
he so ardently perused, would often display itself 
in impurity of language to the laughter and amuse- 
ment of his fellows. Yet he was not without his mo- 
ments of senous reflection, and that of a very deep 
and dreadful kind. He was often overwhelmed with 
religious considerations, and the solemn sermons he 
sometimes heard, filled him with terror and alarm. 
So intolerable at one period were the horrors of his 
mind, that in an agony of despair, he was tempted, 
as many have been before him to destroy himself. 
Thus at an early age he became intimately acquaint- 
ed with the depravity of his nature; and from the 
deep waters of spiritual distress through which he 
was called to pass, his soul imbibed an air of humil- 
ity and a habit of watchfulness, which enabled him 



/ 

/ 



11 

to meet with firmness the dangers of popularity, and 
to maintain a steady course, notwithstanding the 
press of sail he carried. 

To these deep convictions of his early years may 
perhaps be traced the peculiarly pressing and im- 
passioned manner of his address, when he strove to 
arouse the slumbering conscience, or direct the weary 

wanderer to the cross of Christ.- The sacred 

poems and the passages of holy writ, which most he 
loved, were those of a cast similar to that of his own 
fervent mind; and I have heard many tell, with 
tears, of the animation and rapture with which he 
would often repeat from that beautiful hymn of 
Henry Kirke White, his favorite author, whom in 
many shades of character he much resembled, and 
alas! too much in his early and lamented fate — 

Once on the stormy seas I rode, 

The storm was loud, the night was dark; 

The ocean yawn'd, and rudely blow'd 

The wind that toss'd my found'ring bark. 

Deep horrur then my vitals froze; 

Death-struck, I ceas'd the tide to stem, 
When suddenly a star arose, 

It was the star of Bethlehem. 

It was my guide, my light, my all, 

It bade my dark forebodings cease; 
And through the storm of danger's thrall 

It led me to the port of peace. 

Now safely moor'd — my perils o'er, 

I'll sing, first in night's diadem, 
For ever and for ever more, 

The star! — the star of Bethlehem. 

The bias and inclination of his mind began at this 
early ptriod to be disclosed; preachers and preach- 



12 

ihg seemed to occupy all his thoughts, and often he 
would exercise himself in addressing such domestic 
congregations as may be supposed to constitute the 
usual auditories of an infant. Thus in his earliest 
childhood he displayed his fond attachment to the 
Christian Ministry, and the first efforts of his infant 
mind were directed to that sublime and dignified 
profession, in which the capacities of his maturer 
age were so brilliantly displayed. These infantine 
compositions were not infrequently entirely his own; 
and when they claimed not the merit of originality, 
they were derived from hints collected from what he 
had heard or read. But his preaching exhibitions 
could not long be confined to the narrow circle and 
scanty congregation his father's house supplied; 
tidings of his early pulpit talents soon circulated 
through the neighborhood; many were anxious to 
listen to the instructions of this extraordinary child; 
and most regarded him ? as he himself expresses it, 
"a parson in embryo" 

At this age also he wrote verses. He seems how- 
ever to have had but a mean opinion of his talent for 
poetry. It certainly was not the art in which he most 
excelled. Though an individual may have the power 
of rhyming sufficient for throwing his feelings into 
tolerably easy verse, yet something more than this is 
required in a production which, under the dignified 
title of a poem, is to meet the public eye. And 
while most men of an enlightened mind and culti- 
vated taste have solicited the muses' aid for purposes 
of private instruction and amusement, and the do- 
mestic and social circle have been privileged to share 
in both, yet it is not necessary to the perfection of the 
pulpit orator, that he should be an exquisite poet, 
nor is it at all a detraction from the greatness of his 



13 

character, that the world should hesitate to pro- 
nounce unqualified praise upon poetical effusions, on 
which the eye or the ear of friendship might linger 
with delight. 

These observations will serve to account for the 
circumstance, that none of Mr, Spencer's poetical 
productions are preserved in these pages. And 
while some partial friends, who saw with pleasure 
the pieces which circulated in private, may regret for 
the moment their entire exclusion here, his biogra- 
pher hopes, that he shall render a more essential ser- 
vice to the memory of his departed friend, by occu- 
pying their place, with extracts from his papers of a 
more solid and interesting kind. 

These early displays of talent however introduced 
him to the notice and friendship of some individuals 
of wealth and consequence. This was doubtless 
considered by himself and his fond parent as no in- 
considerable circumstance in the history and pros- 
pects of a child, who, if he rose into eminence at all P 
could have no facilities afforded him, by the auspi- 
cious omens of his birth, or the rank of his father's 
family. But alas! the fond anticipations which from 
this quarter he cherished, and perhaps with some 
degree of reason, were not all realized, to the full ex- 
tent to which his sanguine mind had urged them. 
It was doubtless well for him, however, that they 
were not. The disappointments of childhood will 
give a sober cast to the else too glowing pictures and 
too anxious hopes of youth; and while they excite 
a caution in respect to the confidence we should 
place in the prospects that unfold themselves before 
us, admirably prepare the mind for the event, when 
the pledges of friendship lie long unredeemed, and 
the fair blossoms of hope are blasted and destroyed. 



-14 

f In the mean time he applied himself with surpris- 
ing diligence to the acquisition of knowledge. In 
his favorite pursuit he met with the most important 
aid, from the valuable friendship of the late Rev. 
Ebenezer White, then the pastor of the Independ- 
ent Church at Hertford.- — For this amiable and pious 
man, so early lost to the church of Christ,* Mr. 
Spencer ever cherished and expressed the warmest 
affection; whilst he survived but a few weeks the 
melancholy pleasure of paying the last tribute of re- 
spect to his beloved remains, and giving utterance 
to the warm and authorized feelings of his heart, in 
a most impressive oration at his grave. From Mr. 
White he learned the rudiments of the Latin tongue; 
and though the early removal of that gentleman to 
Chester deprived him of his kind and valuable assist- 
ance, yet his father, who had discernment to per- 
ceive, and wisdom to foster the unfolding talents of 
his son, afforded him the means of more ample in- 
struction, by sending him to the best school his na- 
tive town supplied- Approbation cannot be expres- 
sed in language too unqualified of the conduct, in 
in this respect, pursued by the parents of this amia- 
ble youth, who though surrounded by every circum- 
stance of a worldly nature to check its progress, yet 
nobly determined to afford every degree of culture, 
which such sacrifices as they might be able to make 
would yield to a mind which promised to rise su- 
perior to the obscurity of its birth, and consecrate at 

~*Mr. White died Sunday, May 5th, 1811. An interesting memoir of his 
life (together with his select remains) has been published by the Rev. Joseph 
Fletcher, A.M. of Blackburn; with a recommendatory preface, by the Rev. 
Dr. Collyer, of London. In the melancholy but pleasing task of selecting these 
papers for the press, Mr Fletcher was originally joined by the subject of these 
memoirs: — but whilst Mr. Spencer was thus engaged in rearing a monument 
to the memory of his departed friend — he too was suddenly removed, and it 
devolved upon the hand of friendship to perform the same office for himself. 



15 

some future period no common share of genius to 
the noblest and the best of causes. Nor must these 
expressions pass unmingled by regret, that many im- 
portant accessions are lost to the interests of religion 
and literature by the neglect of ignorant, or the re- 
luctance of sordid parents, who in the one case have 
not the capacity to discover talent, or in the other a 
disposition, where their worldly circumstances are 
narrow and scanty, to make any sacrifice of ease on 
their part, or expected emolument on. that of the 
child, for its cultivation. 

Full many a gem of purest ray serene, 
The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear; 

Full many a flower is born to blush uhseefv 
And waste its sweetness on the desert air* * 

At about the age of twelve years, Mr. Spencer con- 
siders himself to have become the subject of serious 
impressions of a deep and permanent kind, and to 
have felt something experimentally of the power of 
religion. This most interesting circumstance he sim- 
ply states in the memoir of his life before referred 
to, but mentions no particulars respecting the mode 
in which these impressions were wrought upon his 
mind, or in what way they operated upon his charac- 
ter, his conduct, and his views. The general effect, 
however, he distinctly records to have been that of 
heightening his desire of the Christian ministry, for 
which, it was strongly impressed upon his mind, 
God had destined him; whilst it reconciled him to 
his present situation, which was most uncongenial to 
the bias of his mind, and most unfriendly to the ac- 
complishment of his ardent wishes; for the circum- 
stances of- his father's family were at that time of 
such a nature as to render his assistance necessary 



fmm+**.0m C- : £m+m*> 



16 

between the hours of school, and at length compel. 
led his parent, however reluctantly, entirely to re- 
move him. His removal from school, however, 
was not in consequence of his father's having 
abandoned the prospect of his one day entering on the 
work of the ministry, but an act "dictated by pru- 
dence, which afforded him an opportunity patiently 
to wait, and calmly to watch the leadings of Provi- 
dence, and the occurrence of any circumstances 
which might tend to fix the future destiny of his son. 
These prudential arrangements, however, were a 
source of keenest anguish to the mind of Spencer. 
He bowed at first with reluctance to the yoke of man- 
ual labor when but partially imposed — -rapidly per- 
formed the appointed task, and leaped with joy from 
toils so repugnant to the elevated and ardent desires 
of his soul, to solitude and to books; and when com. 
ptlled entirely to leave his school and pursue from 
day to day the twisting of worsted, which he calls 
the worst part of his father's business, his giief was 
poignant and his regret severe. But religion, in 
early life, assumed in him her mildest and most amia- 
ble "forms. Its characters were those of uncomplain- 
ing acquiescence in the will of God, and cheerful 
resignation to his earthly lot. If, indeed, with pa- 
tient submission to the arrangements of Providence, 
he occasionally mingled a warm expression of de- 
sire, and suffered his imagination to dwell upon the 
bright visions of better days, and the animating 
promise of pursuits more congenial to the tone and 
inclination of his mind, which hope would give, till, 
for a moment, it seemed reluctant to return; — it was - 
natural; — nor is it incompatible with the most perfect 
resignation to the divine will, thus to dwell on scenes 
©f promised pleasure with delight. Such a combi- 



17 

nation of light and shade is beautiful in nature; and 
not infrequently in the history of a Christian's feel- 
ings does the sunshine of resignation break in upon 
the tears of sorrow, and produce a commixture of 
indefinable feelings, which, like the bow of heaven, 
are a pledge not unredeemed, of fairer scenery and 
happier days. 

The writer, in thus recording the mingled feel- 
ings of his friend, has participated too deeply in 
circumstances and emotions similar to his, not to do 
it with the warmth of sympathy. He knows how 
hard it is to give a cheerful and undivided attention 
to one pursuit, though less repugnant than mechani- 
cal employ, when the heart is intently fixed upon 
another. Ill does the mind adapt itself to the nar- 
row rules of business* the drudgery of manual labor^ 
or the habits of commerce, when panting after study, 
devoted to the love of books, or eager to engage 
in the noblest work that can occupy the powers of 
man, — the ministry of the gospel: — impressed with 
a consciousness, that if it is the will of God that 
the desire enkindled and cherished in the bosom 
should be fulfilled, some event will transpire to af- 
ford facilities and point the way, — but day after day 
expecting that event in vain, till hope deferred makes 
the heart sicky and all the visions with which she has 
charmed, seem gradually yielding to the influence 
of despair. Yet even here, religion has a power to 
sooth; she sheds the milder influence of resignation^ 
when the glare of hope is gone, — - 

"Gives even affliction a grace, 
And reconciles man to his lot." 

He continued working at his father's business and 
in his father's house, for about a year and a haif ? 



18 

anxiously expecting some situation to present itself 
more congenial to his wishes, but no circumstance 
arose to interrupt the monotonous sameness of his 
every day's employ. It seems, however, that he 
still attended to the cultivation of his mind, and never 
wholly lost sight of the Christian ministry. Mean- 
while business languished, and his father was desir- 
ous of seeing him comfortably settled. Their mu- 
tual anxiety increasing to impatience, and his father 
reading on the cover of a Magazine an advertise- 
ment for a situation which appeared to be suitable, 
they set out for London, but upon an interview with 
the advertiser they found insuperable difficulties in 
the way, and returned, with disappointment, to Hert- 
ford. 

Some weeks after this fruitless journey, Mr. Spen- 
cer was recommended by a friend to place his son 
with Messrs. Winwood and Thodey, respectable 
glovers in the Poultry, who also introduced him to 
Mr. Thodey's notice. The first interview between 
the parties was satisfactory; Gvtry arrangement was 
made preparatory to his being bound apprentice, 
and Thomas soon after entered, in a new capacity, 
this worthy gentleman's house. The services con- 
nected with his new situation, the better part of 
which was far from grateful to „ the wishes of his 
heart, still panting for the ministry with unconquer- 
able attachment, were some of them such as his spir- 
it, at first, but reluctantly submitted to perform; yet 
aware that then the providence of God pointed out 
no other path, he cheerfully acquiesced and ex- 
changed, not without regret, the calm and tranquil 
enjoyments of an endeared domestic circle, for the 
bosom of strangers, the drudgery of a shop, and the 
bustle of the Poultry, — But here, as formerly at 



19 

school, his amiable manners — his modest behavior, 
and engaging appearance, soon won the affection of 
the family, (which was large,) whilst his fervent 
piety and superior talents, excited emotions of a 
higher order. An extract of a letter, obligingly 
addressed to me from Mr. Thodey himself will best 
record his manner of life, whilst under that gentle- 
man's roof. 

"His appearance, his genuine modesty, diligence 
and integrity, created an interest in our hearts, so 
as it were almost to identify him as one of our own 
children; he shared our privileges; united with us 
in family devotion; and I occasionally took the same 
opportunities of conversing with him on divine 
things which I had been accustomed to do with all 
those under my care. I well recollect one Sabbath 
evening, being thus engaged with him alone, when 
from his pertinent replies to some questions I put to 
him about the concerns of his soul and the impor- 
tance of an interest in the Savior, I perceived he 
possessed an uncommon share of talent and intel- 
lect. This conversation gave me an impressive idea 
of his. general knowledge of the doctrines of the gos- 
pel, and I saw in him the traits of a very strong and 
ardent mind." 

Whilst at Mr. Thodey 's he conscientiously devo- 
ted himself to promote the interests of his employers, 
notwithstanding his natural aversion to business. He 
even became peculiarly attached to the family, and re- 
ceiving from them tokens of affectionate attention, 
superior to any thing he had a right to expect, and 
of which he always spoke with gratitude, he became 
as happy as the circumstances of his lot could possi- 
bly allow him to be. He formed an acquaintance 
with several pious young men, who, though rather 



20 

sbave his station, did not hesitate to respect genius 
and religion, even in a lad of inferior rank in life* 
S-.-verd times, also, he exercised his preaching tal- 
ents at the house of a relation of the young man who 
was then his fellow servant, but was afterwards a 
student in the same academy with himself, and is 
now a useful minister of the gospel.* 

He describes the exercises of his mind and the 
mode in which he passed his time, during his resi- 
dence in the Poultry, with great simplicity and feel- 
ing. 

"At this place my time was entirely employed, 
as it was fit it should be, in executing the will of my 
two masters; for the young man, who was active 
and friendly, I formed a great attachment, and was 
indeed interested in the welfare of the whole family. 
Marks of respect were shown me, which were I be- 
iieve unusual to any of my predecessors. I made 
myself upon the whole tolerably comfortable; some 
difficulties and disagreeable circumstances of course 
fell to my lot, yet upon the whole I had many enjoy- 
ments. My acquaintance, whilst here, increased: 
with several young men, who indeed were rather 
above my station in life; I was particularly intimate, 
and more than twice or thrice did I give an exhor- 
tation at the house of a relative of the young man's, 
who was my fellow-servant. The opportunities I 
had of hearing the word were very delightful, and a 
higher relish was given to them by the toils and 
business of the week."f 

To youth who may be placed in similar circum- 
stances with the amiable subject of these memoirs, 

* The Rev. Thomas Heward, of Clare, to whom I cheerfully take this 
opportunity of publicly rendering my thanks for several interesting letters of 
Mr. Spencer's, which will appear in these pages. 
t M, & Memoirs, 



r\ 



21 

his mild and cheerful deportment in scenes so un- 
congenial to the bias of his mind, should prove a 
salutary and impressive lesson. Impatience and 
fretf illness are but ill adapted to the furtherance of 
any design, and a disposition to murmur, under the 
arrangements of our present lot, marks a state of 
mind most unfriendly to the patient sufferance of the 
toils r the anxieties and the disappointments insepa- 
rably connected with the ministerial life; and whilst 
it is an obvious fact, that every young man posses- 
sed of piety cannot be employed as a preacher of 
the gospel, to such as conceive themselves endowed 
with talents for that solemn office, and yet are placed 
in circumstances, which seem to forbid the indul- 
gence of a hope they still cherish with an anxious 
pleasure; — to such, the subsequent history of Mr, 
Spencer, will afford another striking proof, in an in- 
numerable series, — that where God has actually call' 
ed and qualified an individual for the ministry, he 
will, in his own time and by unexpected methods, 
make the path of duty plain before that individual's 
feet. Let no one, then, rashly attempt to break the 
connected chain of opposing circumstances by which 
His providence may have surrounded him; but rath- 
er wait in patience till the hand that has thus encir- 
cled him opens up a passage, and by events, which 
may justly be considered as intimations of the divine 
will, invites him to advance. 

These remarks, the result of frequent observa- 
tions on the ways of God in cases similar to this, 
not improperly connect the future scenes of Mr. 
Spencer's life, with those we have already contem- x 
plated. For the time has now arrived, that the cloud 
which had hovered over his fu-ure prospects should 
be dissipated, and another path, — -a path to which he 



had from infancy directed his attention with fond an- 
ticipation and intense desire, present its varied and 
momentous objects of pursuit for the cheerful, but, 
alas! the short-lived exercise of his superior powers. 
After a residence of about four months with his em- 
ployers in the Poultry, circumstances occurred of 
such a nature as to render his services no longer 
necessary, on which account he left London and re- 
turned for a while to his parents at Hertford; but 
some time previous to the event which caused his 
departure from London, he had been introduced to 
the notice of Thomas Wilson, Esq. the benevolent 
and indefatigable Treasurer of the Academy for edu- 
cating young men for the worfcof the ministry, at 
Hoxton. Mr. Wilson perceived in him piety and 
talents far above his years. His whole appearance 
and his engaging manners excited in that gentle- 
man's breast, an interest in this amiable youth, which 
he never lost, and he gave it as his decided opinion, 
(without elating him with a hope, of the ultimate 
failure of which, there was still a probability,) that 
his views should in some way or other be directed 
towards the ministry. 

This revolution in Mr. Spencer's affairs was not 
unnoticed or unimproved by Mr. Wilson, who wise- 
ly regarding it as a favorable opportunity for carry- 
ing into effect those generous designs respecting him, 
which from their first interview he had cherished, 
sent for him; conversed with him upon the subject, j 
and introduced him to the Rev. William Hordle, of 
Harwich, a gentleman to whose care some of the 
young men were committed, whose youth or other 
circumstances did not allow of their immediate en- 
trance into the Academy, though they were consid- 
ered as proper objects of its patronage. To this 



23 

gentleman, at length, Mr. Wilson proposed to send 
Mr. Spencer for trial of his talents and piety, and 
lor preparatory studies; a proposition to which Mr. 
Spencer acceded with unfeigned gratitude and joy. 
The time fixed for -his entrance into Mr. Hordle's 
family was January, 1805. The interval between 
this period and that of his depanurC f«^m the Poul- 
try, which was in October, 1805, he spent IS - -b»s 
father's house, and for the most part in his fathers 
business. Though this Was repugnant to his feel- 
ings, he had yet learned, by five months' absence, in 
the bustle oi a shop in the city, to appreciate the calm 
and tranquil pleasures of a domestic circle, to which 
he became more endeared as the lovely qualities of 
his mind unfolded, and the dignified and pleasing 
prospects of his future life were disclosed. But 
though considerable light was thrown upon his des- 
tiny, yet on leaving London it was not finally deter- 
mined; and this pressed with peculiar weight upon 
his spirit, which, susceptible of the slightest emo- 
tion, must have deeply felt in leaving one scene of 
action, the uncertainty which as yet partially veiled 
from him that which should succeed. Of the day of 
his departure he thus writes: — "I anticipated it with 
mingled emotions; a strong desire to see my father, 
mother, brother and sisters, a sensation of sorrow at 
parting with my old friends, and the idea of uncer- 
tainty as to my future engagements in life, equally 
affected me. Although I had been absent from home 
but five months, the desire I had again to see Hert- 
ford w r as very great, nor do I suppose I shall often 
spend more pleasant evenings than the first one I 
spent at home, after the first time of being absent for 
any considerable season; two or three days were spent 
in seeing other relations and friends, till — ."* 

* M. S. Memoirs. 



24 

Here the narrative first referred to, and often 
quoted, written by his own hand, and evidently for 
his own use, abruptly closes; and here for a ruo- 
nient his biographer will pause. — — It is a charming 
domestic piece, which the hand of his departed 
friend, obedient to ihe warm and vivid recollections 
of his fervent mind, has sketched; bit scarcely has 
he pictured to himself the countenances of that in- 
teresting groupe winch gathered around him again to 
bid him welcome to his father's house, and commit- 
ted the rude outline to his paper, than he is sudden- 
ly called off, and lays down the recording pen for 
ever! So did his life abruptly terminate; but the mys- 
terious voice that summoned him from his endeared 
connexions upon earth, introduced his emancipated 
spirit to the bosom of a happier family above — not 
another family but one most intimately connected 
with his own, for which whilst here he cherished 
such a warm aifection. The sentiment this sentence 
breathes was familiar to himself, and often seen in 
the energy and fervor with which he would repeat 
these admirable lines of Kelly: 

One family, we dwell in him; 
One church above, beneath, 
Though now divided by the stream. 
The narrow stream of death. 

One army of the living God, 

To his command we bow; 
Part of the host have cross'd the flood, 

And part are crossing now. 

Ten thousand to their endless home 

This awful moment fly; 
And we are to the margin come, 

And soon expect to die. 



£5 

pear Jesus, be our constant guide; 

Then when the word is giv'n. 
Bid death's cold stream and flood divide 

And l*nd us safe in heav'n. 

At Harwich Mr* Spencer was completely in his 
element. He commenced the year 1806 in Mr. 
llordle's family, and was then about completing 'he 
fifteenth of his own life. At this interesting age, 
when the powers of the mind begin rapidly to un- 
fold,— when a tone is often given to the future cast 
of thought, and sentiments and habits are imbibed 
and formed, which constitute the basis or become the 
germ of the matured and finished character; — it was 
a circumstance peculiarly auspicious in the history 
of this lamented youth, that he was introduced to 
the pious and enlightened care of such a man as 
*-- Mr. Hordle. In his preaching, in his lectures, and 
^ in his conversation, he saw most admirably applied, 
^ those elementary principles of theological science, 
the scholastic forms of which must else have been 
unintelligible or insipid to his mind. In the liberal 
and sacred current of his habitual thought, Mr. 
Spencer would find a safe channel for the yet infant 
stream of his own conceptions; whilst he would im- 
perceptibly form his character upon that mild, correct, 
and amiable model, constantly before him. 

It must be of incalculable advantage to a young 
man destined for the Christian ministry, as , it evi- 
dently was to our departed Spencer, to pass a year 
or two beneath a faithful and enlightened pastor's 
roof, — to be a spectator of his toil, — a daily witness 
of the varied scenes of duty and of trial which the 
Christian ministry perpetually presents. It is true 
that in academies, lectures on the pastoral care are 
read, and discourses on the duties of the Christian 
3 



26 

-ministry delivered; but one week of actual observa- 
tion must impress more deeply on the mind all that 
such lectures can contain, and unnumbered other 
circumstances, equally important, but which no gen- 
eral analysis can include, than months or years of the 
most devoted study. And to the diligent improve- 
ment of this peculiar advantage, perhaps, may in 
part be attributed that early maturity at which Mr. 
Spencer's capacity for the sacred office had arrived. 
He had the seriousness, the reflection pf the pastor 
while but a student; and when he actually entered 
on that holy office, the exercises of the pulpit, and 
the habits of his ministerial life, bespoke the knowl- 
edge of long experience, rather than of recent the- 
ory, and indicated the presence of a master's, not a 
learners hand. 

At Harwich his diligence was exemplary: a judi- 
cious course of reading was marked out for him by 
his respected tutor, which he conscientiously and 
unweariedly pursued; but besides this, he had the 
use of an excellent library, with rich supplies from 
which he amply occupied his leisure hours. He 
had made considerable progress in the Latin; and 
soon after his introduction to Mr. Hordle, he com- 
menced, under his direction, the study of the He- 
brew. With this sacred language he was particu- 
larly pleased, and soon demonstrated his attach- 
ment and his diligence, by completing, with consid- 
erable labor, an abridgment of Parkhurst's Hebrew 
Lexicon. This work he accomplished in a small 
pocket manual, which proved of considerable use 
to him, and was almost his constant companion.* 

* Of this Manual he made two fair copies, one of which is in possession of 
his tutor, and the other is amongst the papers from which these Memoirs 
are supplied. The design is honorable to his judgment, and the execution $o 
.Jsis perseverance and his accuracy at that early age. 



27* 

Here, too, he first became acquainted with tfi£ 
principles of Moral Philosophy; and whilst from the 
lectures of Doddridge, and the essays of Locke, his 
mind derived vigor and energy; from the study of 
the Latin poets, and the classic authors of oar own 
country, it gained amusement, and his compositions 
gradually assumed an air of elegance and ease. 

But no,t only in literature and science was his pro- 
gress conspicuous during his residence at Harwich; 
but he also made considerable advances in the 
knowledge and experience of divine things. That 
in the midst of ail his studies, which yet he pursued 
with diligence and ardor, religion was the object of 
his chief regard and dearest to his heart, is evident 
from the uniform strain of his letters to his most inti- 
mate and beloved friend Mr. Heward, whose fellow 
laborer he had been at Mr. Thodey'Sjand the privation 
of whose society he seemed deeply to deplore. His 
views of the Christian ministry became more and 
more consistent, and the impression of its vast im- 
portance more deep and solemn on his mind. The 
intense desire with which he panted for that sacred and 
honorable office became tempered, though never 
checked by an awe of its vast responsibility, and a 
consciousness of incapacity for the full discharge of 
its numerous and laborious duties. 

With Mr. Hordle he would sometimes indulge in 
the most free and unreserved converse on the state 
of his heart, atid his private walk with God. In 
such conversations he was always much affected, 
and susceptible, from the constitution of his nature, 
of the most delicate impressions and the keenest 
feelings, it may be well supposed that in religion he 
would deeply feel. Hence the tenderness of his 
conscience, and the susceptibility of his mind, would 



28 

©ften overwhelm his bosom with convictions of guilty 
and agitate him with unnumbered inward conflicts. 
Yet in the midst of all he evidently grew in spiritual 
strength— his mind acquired confidence — his princi- 
ples became daily more and more confirmed' — and 
he had advanced far in a deep and experimental ac- 
quaintance with the ways of God at an age when 
such advancement is rarely to be found. 

Whilst at Harwich he regularly shared with Mr* 
H. the pleasing duty of conducting the devotions of 
the family, and frequently performed the sacred ser- 
vice with an enlargement of heart, a fervor and pro- 
priety of expression truly astonishing. But this was. 
a circumstance he particularly wished should be con- 
cealed; his modesty and diffidence shrunk from the 
observation of then* even of his nearest friends; and 
in one of his letters to his friend* he writes, "My 
situation is comfortable, more so than ever; I am con- 
sidered like one of the family; of an evening I gen- 
erally, by Mr. H.'s desire, engage in family prayer, 
he in the morning, tell it to nobody on any account* 
When he is out I always do*" 

To those who knew not the beloved original, the 
outlines of whose character ihese pages but imper- 
fectly present, the detail of minute particulars may 
be uninteresting and insipid; but those who were 
familiar with him will dwell with pleasure ou the 
faintest lineament that may be here preserved of a 
dear departed friend, so ardently, so deservedly es- 
teemed; whilst a combination of these varied and 
retired beauties may form a portrait on which the 
eye of a stranger may dwell with admiration, and 
the mind reflect with profit. It is in confidence of 
this that his biographer pauses to record another and 

* Mr. Heward. 



29 

a pleasing trait in his character at this early age—? 
the peculiar warmth and constancy of his friendship. 
He seems, indeed, at this period to have had but one 
bosom friend, except those of his own immediate 
family; to him his letters breathe an affection the 
most glowing, spiritual, and pure; and perhaps no 
little incident more strikingly displays the tender 
cast of his mind than that which he -himself- relates, 
with great simplicity, in a letter to his friend: — 

"This morning we read (Mr. -EL- and myself) the 
second night of Young's Night Thoughts— the ve- 
ry place that treats of friendship; I was rather affect- 
ed at the reading of it; and after it was finished, and 
we were alone, I told him (Mr. H.) I was no stran- 
ger to Young's sentiments in that place. He asked 
me 'if I had lost any friends? 5 I told him no — not by 
death. He asked me 'if I had by treachery? Oh no 2 
Sir. 'How then? r Only by separation!^ 

Thus in pleasant and familiar intercourse with one 
for whom he mingled veneration with affection, and 
of whom he never ceased to speak with all the rap- 
turous energy of gratitude and filial love — in exerci- 
ses and pursuits every way adapted to satisfy his ar- 
dent thirst of knowledge — in scenes and in society 
congenial to the tone and bias of his mind— in con- 
scientious preparation for closer studies and severer 
labor, previous to his entrance on that sacred office 
long the object of hi* choice — and in deep commu- 
nion with himself and God — did he pass the allotted 
period of his stay at Harwich. 

As the term (a year) fixed for his residence with 
Mr. Hordledrew towards its close, his anxiety con- 
siderably increased; he anticipated, with regret, a 
departure from scenes and society so much endeared 
to him; and the trial through which he was ta pass 
3?" 



30 

previous to his admission into the academy at Hox- 
ton, when viewed in connexion with his youth, exci- 
ted in his mind considerable apprehension and dread. 
But the hope of success never entirely abandoned 
him; whilst the pleasing prospect of being again as- 
sociated with his friend, who had by this time enter- 
ed as a student in the same academy, tended not a 
little to gladden and animate his heart. 

In November he drew up a statement of his reli- 
gious experience, his views of theological truth, and 
his reasons for desiring the christian ministry, accor- 
ding to a standing order of the academy with respect 
to young men proposing themselves as candidates 
for its patronage. These papers, written in a style 
of dignified simplicity, and disclosing a knowledge 
and experience of divine things, which in a youth 7 
scarcely sixteen years of age; must have excited the 
admiration of all to whom they were submitted, — 
were duly presented to the committee, and passed, 
though not without some difficulty, arising from his 
age; but the extraordinary qualifications he appear- 
ed to possess, and the strong recommendations of his 
friend and tutor, Mr. Hordie, overcame this obsta- 
cle, and the 5th of January following was appointed 
for his personal appearance before the constituents 
of that institution, in order to give ihem a specimen 
of his talents for public speaking. 

Mr. Spencer left Mr. Hordle\s family on the 18th 
of December and spent the interval of time between 
his departure from Harwich and the day of his ex- 
amination at Hoxton (which was postponed to the 
7th of January) at his father's house at Hertford. 

Whose imagination does not follow this beloved 
youth into the bosom of his family again; who does 
"not picture to himself the charming scenes of social 



SI 

and domestic joy his presence would inspire. With 
what tenderness and affection would his venerable 
father bid him welcome to his paternal home again; 
with what delight would he gaze upon the animated 
features of his countenance, smiling in all the ingen- 
uousness of youth; while with nobler feelings of de- 
light he marked the unfolding graces of his mind, saw 
his improvement in the best of sciences — religion, 
and beheld him daily growing in favor both with 
God and man. With what adoring gratitude would 
they retrace together the scenes of his childhood, and 
the many alarming obstacles which once almost for- 
bad the indulgence of a hope that the object of their 
ardent wish would ever be obtained; and how, in the 
transport of those happy hours, would his family an- 
ticipate for him they loved, in the future stages of 
an honorable ministry, years of usefulness and com- 
.fort. Ah! pleasing visions never to be realized! 
Little did that interesting groupe conceive that it was 
his appointed lot but just to taste the joys and sor- 
rows of a pastor's life, and then expire. Already 
they had setn the bud swelling with fulness — teem- 
ing with life; now they beheld the blossom, and ad- 
mired its beauty; and they thought long to gaze upon 
the promised charms ot the unfolded flower; happy 
strangers of the melancholy and mysterious fact, that 
so soon as it had opened it must be suddenly cut 
down and die! But such and so frail is man — "In 
the morning they are like grass that groweth up, in 
the evening it is cut down and wither eth" — Psalm xc, 
5, 6. Such and so uncertain is human life — "It is 
even as a vapor, that appearethfor a little time, and 
then vamsheth away" — James iv», 14. 

At this interesting period of Mr. Spencer's life it 
will be perhaps gratifying to the reader to pause, an<J 



gain a more familiar acquaintance with him, than 
can be supplied by a narration of events and cir- 
cumstances in his history, by perusing some extracts 
from his correspondence and other papers, which 
will throw much light upon the formation of his 
character, and afford a pleasing specimen of his ear- 
ly genius* 

I have now before me a packet of letters addres* 
sed to his friend Mr. Heward, dated at various pe- 
riods, from October, 1805, to December, 1806. 
Though at the commencement of this correspon- 
dence-he had not attained his 15th year, these letters 
breathe a spirit of the purest piety, and often express 
sentiments by which age would not be dishonored, 
in a style remarkably correct and vigorous. But 
the reader shall participate with me in the pleasure 
which the perusal of this interesting correspondence 
—this simple and unaffected utterance of early piety 
and friendship, has afforded me. 

No. 1. , 

, Hertford, Oct. 16, 1805. 

M. — As for the manner in which I have 

and do employ my ime: my father employs me 
either in writing or in his business, more than I ex- 
pected. What leisure time I do have, which is but 
little, I employ in reading, writing, and meditation. 
I hope he will not press upon me that employment 
which I dislike, but which however I have been en- 
gaged in. 

"Mr. Wilson wrote a letter to my father, the sub- 
stance of which is as follows: he informs him that 
if it is possible he will get a minister to take me, in 



S3 

©rder to see more of my piety and talents; and hopes 
that it will be agreeable for me to be at home with 
my father till Christmas* * 

"These are the circu instances under which I am 
now placed. I know it is my duty to be submis- 
sive and resigned to the will of God, but this is a 
ksson whicfv like all others, is to be learned at the 
cross of Christ: 'tis there alone, my dear friend, we 
can study all heavenly graces and duties - — *** 



It is pleasing to observe with what deep serious- 
ness ot mind he conducted those favorite exercises 
in exhortation and in preaching, before referred to,* 
and with what humility and even thankfulness he 
listened to the animadversions of any who were dis- 
posed to criticise. In another part of the same let- 
ter he savs — 

" — 1 am not without hope, that I shall praise 

and adore a blessed God, for the ill opinions those 
persons formed of me, who heard me preach at Mr. 

T % Methinks I cannot be thankful enough 

to you for informing me of it. It has I trust made 
me more watchful and prayerful than before, that I 
may be accounted righteous not in the sight of men, 
but in the view of a sin-avenging God. Thus we 
may see a liuie of the dealings of Providence with 
his children. When he distresses them iM any way 
he does it for their good. All things, saith the in- 
spired Apostle, work together for good to them that 
love God, and are the called according to his purpose. 
— Since that evening 1 have teit a little more com- 
fort in my own mind respecting eternal things. 

* See page 21, 



34 

"God forbid it should be a false peace. Hope you 
keep close to a throne of grace in personal prayer. 
J Tisfrom thence we are to draw all our comfort; 'tis 
there we can get a soul-transforming spiritual view 
of Jesus; 'tis from thence we get every necessary 
weapon, wherewith to combat our spiritual enemies. 
"So often called away to attend to different things, 
like you I cannot say I have written such a letter as 
I could wish. If I should be placed under a minis- 
ter, I think I should have more opportunity for 
writing long letters. — However, let us whenever an 
opportunity offers, write to each other. Such love 
as ours is not easily quenched. Let us then mani- 
fest it by writing to each other, so as to stir up one 
another to the exercise of every Christian grace. 
Still let us keep our eye upon the Lord Jesus Christ, 
and be constantly concerned to honor his holy name, 
by a consistent walk and conversation. Then shall 
we meet to part no more, and dwell forever with our 
Jesus, in upper, better, brighter worlds. 

"The soul that on Jesus has lean'd for repose, 
He^wilLnot, he cannot, desert to his foe si- 
Thai-s^mrthQUgh ajl hall should endeavor to shake, 
H&'il neveg^no never, no never forsake." 



Soon after it was determined that he should go to 
Harwich for a twelvemonth, he wrote again to his 
friend Mr. Heward, and the following extract from 
his letter, shows the humble, grateful, and devotion- 
al habit of his mind: — 



J5 



No. 2. 



Hertford Nov. 12, 1805. 
j*. ■ I join with youjn saying, 'how won- 

derful are God's ways.' We indeed little thought 
that Mr. H. was the person under whom I should 
be instructed, when we were at Hoxton, hearing him 
preach, or I when I breakfasted with him: at the 
same time, I cannot forbear adoring that favor 
which is shown to me from God: me who am utter- 
ly unworthy of the least of all God's mercies. Good- 
ness and mercy have hitherto followed me, and, I 
doubt not, will through life. May that goodness 
which was so gloriously displayed in the salvation of 
sinners, and that mercy which has snatched so many 
brands from the burning, be our consolation all 
through life— our joy in death—and the burden of 
our song to all eternity. 



The following observations are worthy of a much 
older pen, and display a judgment and discretion 
rather unusual in a lad, not yet fifteen years of age. 

No. 3. 

November 13. 
"You informed me in your last that your de- 
sires for the work of the ministry had not at all abat- 
ed. I sincerely wish that they may be fulfilled, and 
that you and I may be fellow laborers in the Lord's 
vineyard God certainly can do this for us; let us 
pray that he may. You still appear dubious 



36 

af your own ability for that important work. I 
would have you consider, that God works by whom 
he will work. He has many ministers in his church, 
real sent ministers, who have not those great gifts 
that distinguish many of his servants; and not only 
so, but these men have often been the means of do- 
ing more good than those of great talents — and wnat 
is the reason of this? Even so y Father, for so it 
seemed good in thy sight? — is all that we must say. 
And you, my worthy friend, should also remember, 
that as yet, you cannot form any idea of your own 
abilities. As I have often told you, when I lived 
With you, I doubt not your abilities, when improv- 
ed by application to study, &c. will be as fit for that 
employ, (if the will of God) as any other. God, 
you know, in every thing acts as a sovereign: l I 
will work, and who shall let itf is his language — will 
work by the feeblest means, and the weakest instru- 
ments. I hope you will still be kept low in your own 
eyes, for that I am sure, is one quality, or rather 
property of a gospel minister. At our best estate 
we are altogether vanity, and less than nothing. May 
the Lord keep us all truly humble. Luther used to 
say, there were three things made a minister — afflic- 
tion, meditation, and prayer: that is, sanctified afflic- 
tion, scriptural meditation, and earnest prayer; in 
which last particular I hope you are perpetually 
engaged. Pray, my dear friend, for direction of 
God — pray for grace, which is of more value, by far> 
than great gifts, and say in the language of resigna- 
tion, hope, and faith — 'Here am I } Lord, send me to 
labor in thy vineyard r ' You have appealed to me 
in saying, k You well know, I shall never rely on my 
own strength for success and usefulness.'— I know 



ST 

you will not, (at least whilst in your present mind) 
and I pray that God would keep you still so deter- 
mined. Let us then pray, that we may both of us 
be made able, useful, and humble ministers of the 
New Testament. 

"~ -I am glad to find, that you generally 

hear three times a day. Young men, who wish to 
be ministers, cannot hear too much of the gospel, 
provided they are anxious to improve on what they 
do hear-——." 

I shall present the reader with nearly the whole of 
the following letter; and I think, that few will be 
found on the perusal, who deem it unworthy of 
preservation. It contains a pleasing grateful (and 
the more pleasing as it is entirely uninfluenced) tri- 
bute to the memory of departed worth — discloses 
the deep attention and care with which its writer 
was at that early age, accustomed to reflect upon 
sermons, and shews how incessant and uniform was 
the panting of his heart for the Christian ministry, 

No. 4. 

Hertford, Nov. 18, 1805* 
U MY dearest friend, 

"I expected to have heard from you before 
now, but as I have not. it becomes me to bear the 
disappointment with fortitude and resolution, hoping 
that it will not be long before I have a few lines 
from you. On Saturday last, I heard that, that 
good and worthy man Mr. Winwood was dead. It 
will, I doubt not, be a great stroke to the family; 
but I am well assured, that to him death was eternal 
gain. Truly, the righteous hath hope in his death. 
May you and I both be found at the last day on the 
4 



right hand of the Judge with our respected master! 
While he is tuning his harp to the praises of a pre- 
cious Jesus, we have to combat with many enemies; 
we have many trials to pass under 

Before vfe reach the heavenly fields, 
Or walk the golden streets.* 

We shall, I am persuaded, feel our own depravity 
in many instances here below, ere we join with him 
in everlasting songs above; but if we are enlisted un- 
der the banners — the blood stained banners of the 
cross, we shall certainly arrive there. Let us then 
seek, earnestly seek, after the one thing needful; 
.and whilst earthly objects vanish and decay in our 
estimation; nay, whilst the world dies daily in our 
view, and its perishing things appear in their proper 
light — may we feel our hearts panting after the 
wells of salvation— our souls, with all their faculties, 
engaged in the noblest of all undertakings— our feet 
running in the good ways of God — our tongues 
making mention of his righteousness, and of his on- 
ly — in short, may we be crucified to the world — 
risen with Christ- — and transformed into his divine 
image and likeness. This, I trust, I can say is my 
desire, and I know it is the earnest wish of my dear 
friend. 

"Sabbath-day, Nov. 15th, I heard Mr. M— — s 
at Cowbridge, in the morning, from 1 Thes. v, 8. 
*J3W let us, who are of the day, be sober, putting on 

* Alas! lamented youth! little did he, or the friend to whom he wrote, im- 
agine how few his trials — how short his warfare should prove — and how soon 
the pious desire of his heart should be, as it respected himself, fulfilled: such 
and so mysterious are the ways of God — Spencer is early summoned to his 
rest, but his companion is left, still to maintain the conflict, whilst he mourns 
his loss — "ipd men shall be in the f eld, the one shall be taken and th \ &tji&r 
fe/f.^-^Maithcw xxir 40. 



39 

the breast-plate of faith and love, and for an helmet 
the hope of salvation? He first shewed what was 
implied in Christians being of the day; secondly, en- 
forced the exhortation of the text. To be of the 
day, he said, implied — 1. a state of knowledge; 2 a 
safety; 3. comfort, he. In enforcing the admoni- 
tion, he exhorted them to the exercise of faith and 
love; gave them good grounds for hope; and shew- 
ed that these three graces had a tendency to comfort 
and strengthen believers. In the afternoon, from 
Acts xvii, 30, 3.1. 'The times of this ignorance God 
winked at* but now commandeth all men every where 
to repent, because he hath appointed a day in which, 
he will judge tha world in righteousness, by that man 
xvhom he hath ordained, whereof he hath given assur- 
ance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the 
dead/' He considered—!, the certainty of a future 
judgment; 2. the person of the Judge; 3. the cir- 
cumstances of the day; -4. the necessity of repent- 
ance inferred from the text. He, indeed, is a worthv 
man, and appears well suited for a missionary. In 

the evening I heard Mr. L ~, at the Chapel, from 

John iii, 14. k For as Moses lifted up the serpent in 
the wilderness,' &c. He said many good things, and 
is very earnest in the good cause. Last Lord's day 
we had Mr. M — — , again; text in the morning, 
Heb. vi, 11. ' And we desire, that every one of you 
do shew the same diligence to the full assurance of 
hope unto the end? He considered— 1. the thing 
mentioned — the full assurance of hope; 2. shew r ed 
that it might be attained; 3. exhorted them to 'dili- 
gence in aspiring after it. Time and room forbid 
me to make any remarks upon the sermon, (which 
was a good one) in the afternoon from Acts xvi, 9, 
l And then stood a man of Macedonia and prayed 



40 

him> saying, come over and help us? In discoursing 
on it, he shewed — 1. that the heathens want help; 
2. that it is the duty of ministers and people to give 
it them; and 3. that men should exert themselves 
for the purpose. It appeared like a collection ser- 
mon; and he went afterwards and got a little money 
of a few friends at Hertford, for the mission to 
China. 

"In the evening, having been previously invited, 

I went at six o'clock to Mr. K— % to see the 

minister. I was there during family worship; and 
after that, Mr. M« and self went tip stairs to talk a 
little together. He asked me about my learning,. 
&e. then how long I had been u nou^iy disposed, 
&c. He appeared satisfied with tyiy answers, and 
asked me if I was not going into the country; I told 
him 'yes.' He asked me if I should have an oppor- 
tunity of attending to my books there. This natur- 
ally led to the whole affair: he seemed glad, and ask- 
ed me if I designed to be a minister in this country. 
I told him I wished to be quite resigned to the wilf 
of Providence in that matter. He gave me some 
good advice; and then we knelt down, and he en- 
gaged in a short and affectionate prayer. I was 
much affected with the advice, conversation, and 
prayer. 

u — — I am sensible that your attachment to me 
is as unshaken as ever. I hope you pray that both 
of us may be made ministers of the gospel; and, in 
some future day, have our wishes respecting that 
completely fulfilled. I am very desirous that you 
may be shortly placed in a situation in which yon 
will have more leisure for reading, writing, study- 
ing, &cc* that you were going with me to Har- 
wich. Still continue to pray for one who feels his 



m 

own unworthiness for the service of his God, and yet 
wishes to be an instrument of doing great good to 
souls: and if I should not be very successful in my 
ministry, methinks it would be reward enough to 
have labored for God, and not to have been employ- 
ed in the drudgery of Satan." 



The next letter, to the same correspondent, con- 
tains a specimen of his talent for the composition of 
sermons at that age. It affords a pleasing proof of 
his early skill in the practice of an art in which he 
eventually so much excelled, 

No. 5* 

Hertford, Dec. 3, 1805. 
I have sent you my thoughts upon (or 



rather rny way of discussing) that text Mr. Knight 
preached from. I hope your candor will excuse im» 
perfections. I never read any thing upon it, and it 
is the production of a boy. 

Matthew v, 20. 



" i 



'For 1 say unto you, that except your righteous* 
ness shall exceed the righteousness of the Scribes and 
Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom 
of heaven" 

GENERAL HEADS. 

1st* — Explain the nature of the right- 
eousness of the Scribes and Pharisees* 

*4 ; 



42 

2d.— Shew in what respects our right- 
eousness MUST EXCEED THEIRS. 

3d. — Notice the consequences of posses- 
sing a righteousness no betteb 
than theirs. 

1st Headv — Explain the nature, &c. 
It was self righteousness. — Luke xviii, 9. 

1st. — This righteousness is founded in ignorant? 

Of God's nature, 

Of the spirituality of his law, 

Of the deceitfulness of the heart, 

And of the true method of salvation. 
2d Head. — Shew in what respects our- 

RIGHTEOUSNESS SHOULD EXCEED THEIRS-; 

The righteousness here termed 'yours' is the 
righteousness of Christ, which becomes ours by im- 
putation, in the same manner as our sins became 
Christ's. This righteousness thus becoming ours* 
exceeds the righteousness of the Scribes and Phar- 
isees. 

1st.— In its origin. It is divine— -the other' Iiuman % , 

or Satanic; as we doubt not, Satan first infused 

self righteous thoughts into the minds 06 

men, &c. 
2d. — Its nature and particular properties* 

Tnis righteousness 

Delivers us from bondage, 

Saves us from sin, 

Gives us holiness of life, 

Makes us victorious in death. 

Joyful in judgment, and 

Happy through all eternity. 



m 

The righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees 
cannot do this. 

But our Lord might also allude to that righteous- 
ness which is implanted in us, as well as that which 
is imputed to us, and that far exceeds the righteous- 
ness of the Scribes and Pharisees in ks effects, 
which are real good works, which 
Spring from a good motive, 
Are directed to a good purpose, 
And have a good end. 
These works are not meritorious, but serve for the 
justification of oar faith, not of our persons, and 
they far exceed the legal performances of the self- 
righteous. 

3d Head. — Notice the consequences of pos- 
sessing a righteousness no better 
than theirs. 
Ye shall in no case enter into, &c. 
1st.— Here we must necessarily dwell a little upon 
the nature of the kingdom of heaven.-— Consider 
1) The person of- the King, 

2. The happiness of the subjects. 

3. The eternal duration of his reign, &c. 
2d.— How dreadful a thing to be shut out of this 

kingdom. 
3d.— How peculiarly striking is the language of the 
Saviour — ye shall in no case, &c. 
Notwithstanding aH vour professions, long pray- 
ers, alms giving 1 , & \ 'Ye shall in no case enter into 
the kingdom of heaven S 

From this subject we draw a few inferences. 
L— We may k*aw from hence, the evil nature of sin* 
If 11 sef righteous?iesshe so bad, what must un» 
righteousness be? 



4# 

2.- — We here see the only true method of salvation— 
the righteousness of Christ. 

3. — How necessary is daily> serious self -examination^ 
in order to ascertain to which class we belong* 

4. — We likewise infer the necessity of 'prayer , for 
instruction and grace. 

5. — Hoxv dreadful is the case of the self righteous- 
character. 

8. — The believer may hence draw some comfort. He 
is interested in Jesus Christ, and shall outride 
all the storms and troubles of life, sing the 
dear name of Jesus in the hour of death, and 
stand unmoved amidst the jarring elements, 'the 
wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds.' 

"May the God of hope bless us both — fill us with 
all joy and peace in believing- — enlarge our spiritual 
coast— give us to see more and more of the sinful- 
ness of our nature — the depravity, of -our hearts- — the 
imperfection of our graces — the smallness of our 
knowledge— the sufficiency of Jesus— the stability of 
our hope — the fulness of Christ. May he give us 
to see that our names are written in heaven — may 
he brighten up our evidences for glory — establish 
our faith — enlarge our desires — and give us hunger- 
ings and thirstings after righteousness. May we 
enjoy the blessings of salvation — the sweetness of 
communion with God — the peace bought and pur- 
chased for us by Christ Jesus — and that joy in the 
Holy Ghost, produced by his influences — and may 
we learn more and more of the heights, lengths, 
depths, and breadths of the love which passeth 
knowledge* May we dwell together in that happy 
land, where none but the righteous can enter, and 
where our worship shall be undisturbed. 



45 

"And now, my dear brother, I commend you t© 
the hands of that God who doth all things well, and 
w ho taketh care of those who put their trust in him; 
and hoping soon to hear from yen, I subscribe my- 
self, 

"Your truly affectionate friend, 

"Thomas Spencer." 

N. B. "Remember me to — ™. Pray for me; 
and may the Lord bless you. Amen," 

No. 6. 

- Hertford, December 31, 1805. 
"my dear friend, 

"I think myself very happy in having such 
a friend as you prove yourself to be. I know affec- 
tion towards me is too deeply rooted in you ever to 
be erased by separation. Life's greatest blessing 
is a well chosen friend, and I do., feel it so. You can- 
not imagine (only by your own feelings) what plea- 
sure 1 take in recollecting past scenes, and recalling 
to the mind occurrences relating only to us, which 
never shall be forgotten. I hope we have the same 
'friend that sticketh closer than a brother.' I am 
affected, peculiarly affected, when I read the solemn 
confessions you make of depravity, &c. You know 
Paul acknowledged himself the chief of sinners. 
When, therefore, yon are bowed down under a sense 
of sin, look unto Jesus, there only salvation is to be 
found for those who, like you, are sensible of sin. 
But I verily believe my friend has already been 
washed in the fountain of his blood. Yes, I doubt 
not but you have passed from death unto life, and 



m 

are called according to God's eternal purpose; there- 
fore, instead of writing bitter things against yourself, 
rejoice in Christ Jesus whilst you have no confi- 
dence in the flesh.— Abt my friend, you know not 
fully how I have lifted up my puny arm in rebellion 
against God; so that I cannot think myself a whit 
behind the chief of sinners. Young as I am, I am 
a great sinner; but blessed be God who has, I hope, 
given us both a good hope through grace: to him 
be all the glory. 

"I shall, I expect, be in town a day sooner than 
was intended, viz. Wednesday the 8th; my father 

will not come till the next day. Mr. F — , in his 

letter, mentions a desire that I would give them a 
lecture (in the old way J at his house in the evening. 
I am very willing to do it, and I hope we shall have 
your company, " 

No, 7. 

Hertford y January 3 ; 1806*^ 
* l M¥ dearest friend, 

"With the greatest pleasure I received and 
read your kind but short letter; but I must not 
speak about its shortness, as mine must be as short, 
if not shorter, as I expect S — —to come for it di- 
rectly. — Mr. Davies's Sermon entitled, 'The Mid- 
night Hour/ I understand, is printed* How glad I 
should have been to have heard it* I hope when I 
am in town you will remember your promise, and 
not forget the greatest part of the sermon, as yoo 
know how I respect (and like the preaching of) that 
worthy man.* Ihope you will have a pleasant and 

* The Bey, Mr. Davieg, of -Queen-Street, Cheapskie, London* 



47 

profitable day next Sabbath at Finchley. I ap* 
afraid you cannot get out next Thursday, the day 
Nelson is buried; for I do assure you that your 
presence at any place in town would afford me more 
pleasure than the sight of his funeral, to which I do 
not intend to go. I have been with Samuel a little 
about Hertford. I have read what I wanted in 
Washington's Life, or rather his History of Amer- 
ican Wars, as I do not see so much of Washington 
in it as I expected. I cannot add more; but remain 
your very affectionate friend, 

"Thomas Spencer." 

His next letter is from Harwich, and contains a 
pleasing disclosure of the state of his mind on the 
.accomplishment, so far, of his ardent wishes. 

No. 8. 

Harwich^ February 6, 1 806. 
j !my dearest friend, 

"I with pleasure embrace the opportunity 
which now offers itself of writing you a few lines for 
the first time since I have been here. While I hope 
you enjoy your health, I can say I never was better 
in my life than I have been since I have been at 
Harwich. The air is very cold and healthy: I am 
sure I have felt the difference. In the town there 
any many inhabitants, and a Methodist place besides 
Mr. Hordle's: by Methodist§, I mean Wesley's 
people. Mr. Hordle preaches three times oh a Sab- 
bath day, and is very well attended, and on Wednes- 
day evenings; prayer meeting on Monday night. 



48 

I doubt not but you will join with rue in returning 
thanks to the all-wise Disposer of events for placing 
me in that comfortable situation which I now fill. 
I live with Mr. H. entirely; his study is where I pur- 
sue my learning, and in an afternoon I meet his boys 
(there are only nine) at his vestry, to say a lesson or 
two with them. I learn Latin, Geography, and have 
got a considerable way in Doddridge's Lectures on 
Pneumatology, in which now and then I meet with a 
philosophical subject; indeed, my dear friend I really 
am very comfortable. 0/ that my improvement may 
keep pace with the advantages I enjoy. 

"But, my dearest friend, what a separation be- 
tween us. I often think of you when in this study 
pursuing my learning; think! did I say? I cannot 
help thinking of you, and I will cherish every tender 
thought of a friend I so much love. Ofttimes I 
think that of an evening, when we are surrounding the 
family altar, you are engaged in the busy concerns of 
life — whilst I am enjoying the advantages of a kind 
teacher, a good library, and various other blessings^ 
you are behind the counter of a glove shop. Yet do 
not despair. I hope we shall some future day enjoy 
one another's company, and these advantages con- 
nected with it. When I walk out, as I in general do 
every day for exercise, I imagine you to be here — I 
converse with you — I see you — and fancy many 
other enjoyments, which perhaps will not come so 
soon. Wheii I last saw you I was exceedingly vexed 
that we could not have fofifiam hour together in private; 
but,however 9 I know you regard me stiii—and am 
sure I love you much; and it is some pleasure ta 
think that we can yet pray for one another. O do not 
forget me, unworr.hy as I am, in your approaches to 
the throne of grace* Pray that 1 may not abuse my 



49 

privileges; but that whilst I am here it may be man- 
ifest that I am possessed of a principle of divine 
grace in my heart. But I hope I need not mention 
this to you, for you do I trust still remember me in 
3'our besc moments. I have not forgot the pleasure 
I experienced the last time I saw you in London, 
nor the affectionate manner in which you conversed 

with me from Mr. F -'s to my cousin's the last 

evening, 

"I had a very tedious journey here, as I could not 
sleep all night in the coach. Bu I think I am well 
repaid. I did not imagine that I should be treated 
with such care; 1 have a nice little bed to my mvselt; 
and, in short, am surrounded with ble^bings. I ?ake 
some pleasure in contrasting my present situation 
with what it was when at Mr. Thodey's; but after I 
have considered the peculiar advantages of this to 
that, I find that there was one pleasure I enjoyed there 
which I do not here— that of your company and con- 
versation; and thus is life made up of hopes and fears, 
pleasures and pains. May we be among those who 
are strangers and sojourners here, who seek a better 
country. 

"The evening I generally employ in promiscuous 
reading, as the time is then as it were my own. As 
I come home from the vestry about an hour before 
the other boys, from that time till tea I am engaged 
in secret meditation, reading God's word and'pray- 
er to him. Ah! Thomas you are then more on my 
mind than during the other parts of the day, for I 
cannot but remember how often you have pressed 
on me the duty of private prayer; and indeed, my 
friend, you are then most remembered by me in the 
best sense. I do continue to pray for you; and I 
hope God will hear our petitions for one another, 
5 



50 

Slid send us answers of peace. I beg of you, I en- 
treat you to be earnest in supplication for me, that 
if God has appointed me for the work of the minis- 
try, I may be fitted for it, and have a divine bles- 
sing attending me in all I undertake. 

"Mr. H. bids me write now and then the heads 
of a sermon of my own, and shew it him. I have 
yet only done one: it met his approbation. 

"Be so kind as to remember me to Mr. F -, &c. 

£;c. — I suppose you like your business as little as 
ever; but I hope you will soon be put in a situation 
where you will enjoy yourself more— I mean in the 
best enjoyments. I still hope that we, formed for 
each other's comfort shall yet be made blessings to 
each other, and that in a particular way. Then let 
the conceited, covetous worldling say, 'Friendship 
is but a name' — we know it is something more— it 
is a great blessing; and where the friends have 
grace in their hearts, it is so eminently and espe- 
cially. David and Jonathan found it so. I often 
think of your noticing particularly that expression, 
their souls were knit together* Dr. Young thought 
so when he said, 'poor is the friendless master of 
a world.' I am thankful that I have had such a 
friend cast in my way that will be, I trust, a blessing 
to me all through life, and that will dwell with 
me in a better world. May the hope of that hap- 
piness stimulate as to more resignation to the divine 
will, and holy disdain of the vanities of time and 
sense. 

"And now, my clear fiend, my letter draws to 
a close; 1 can scarcely forbear tears while I write it. 
I hope you will overlook its very visible imperfec- 
tions, and remember that it cotr.es from one that 
loves you. Need I again beseech you to pray for 






51 

ffie, that I may find mercy of the Lord, be blessed 
with every blessing here below, and crowned with 
glory hereafter. 

"Write me what religious intelligence you know 
lam ignorant of: I see the Magazine here and other 
periodical works. And now I desire to com- 
mit myself, my dear friend, and all our concerns, 
into the hands of a covenant God; and wishing you 
every blessing, I rest your every faithful and affec- 
tionate friend jJ 

Thomas Spencer. " 

No. 9. 
Harwich, February 24, 1806, 

U UY DEAREST FRIEND, 

"More than a fortnight ago, according to 
agreement, I wrote to you; as I have not heard from 
you since th.it tine, my mind-is full of anxiety on 
that account, as I know not what to assign as a rea- 
son for it. I hope you received it, for I should nev- 
er like our correspondence to be investigated by any 
body but ourselves. I hardly know how to write 
this letter; whether I should inform you of circum- 
stances I mentioned in my last, (being in doubt 
whether you received it) or, taking for granted that 
you have had it, shall I tenderly chide you for not an- 
swering it. I cannot think you have either forgot- 
ten me, or are grown careless about me, and yet 
what can I say! I am full of conjectures. Have you 
been so busy as not to have time to write; or have 
you written, put it in the post, and the letter miscar- 
ried? I hope you will write to me, and inform me 
which of these is the real case. Need I tell you 
again that I am peculiarly comfortable in my siuia^ 



33 

lion, having nothing to render me otherwise but the 
absence of my friend, and my not having heard From 
him: nor from home either; - for I wrote to my father. 
and I have not yet received an answer, which I. ex- 
pected immediately; indeed" I cannot at all account 
for these things. 

"As Mr. Hordle was a student at Hoxton, I have 
learnt a few things respecting the nature of the place 
which, perhaps you will like to know, for who can 
tell but some future day you may take the second,, 
third, unci last step towards being connected with 
their:. You told me you had taken the first some 
time ago. But to drop this. The students then find 
themselves candles J or their own studies, soap, towels, 
tea, and they have one goxon to study in, &c. they 
have family prayer altogether morning and evening; 
you know what they learn. I am very fond of Mr. 
H.'s preaching: we had three very fine sermons yes- 
terday, on Exod. xxxiii, 16; 1 Cor. iv, 5; Eph. ii, 
8. I have just begun to enter the heads of the ser- 
mons in a book, and I am sure he is like a father to 
Hie; I am indeed very well treated. I hope you are 
earnest in prayer, that God would let you know his 
will concerning you. O, my friend, I should think 
myself very happy if I could do any thing for you. 
Although I do not speak to you now, nor see you, 
nor hear from you, yet I do feel pleasure in praying 
ix>r you. I never was better in my life than since I 
have been at Harwich. A day or two ago I began 
to learn Hebrew. I often think you would be in your 
element in this study, with the advantages of learn- 
ing, &c. I begin now to have a little idea of Geog- 
raphy; know more Latin than before, and study ev- 
ery day Locke's Conduct of the Understanding, and 
Doddridge's Lectures; besides a deal of cursory 



33 

reading, Sec. for here is a very nice library, to which 
1 have free access. I told you in my last to let me 

have Mr. E ~'s address. Hope you will remem 

ber me to all our friends. Give my respects to Mr. 

J, F and T. E — — . As I do not remember 

any thing else, that I have to say, I conclude with 
subscribing myself, yours r by all the tender ties of 
friendship, 

"Thomas Spencer." 

No. 10. 

Harwich, April ^ 1806. 

{{ MY DEAREST FRIEND, 

"I received, with the greatest pleasure, your 
letter of the 29th of February, together with my fa- 
ther's; and, as I was sorry you did not w ? rite to me 
before, so was I equally grieved at the cause: I 
sympathize with you in your afflictions, and hope 
that you are now quite recovered and— the rest of 
the family. I believe you when you say it af- 
fords you so much pleasure to hear of my welfare* 
O! Thomas, pray for me that my very comforts do 
not become snares. I. should like to have had more 
of the heads, texts, &c. of the sermons you have 
heard in London; and hope that you find the min- 
istry of Mr K — and those you hear at Hoxton ben- 
eficial to your soul; for it is my earnest desire that, 
under the influences of the sacred Spirit, your soul 
may be like a well-watered garden. I (of course) 
hear Mr. H. three times on the sabbath day, and I 
think I can say it has been to my profit: his ser- 
mons are indeed v 'ery judicious, experimental and 
practical, and I find it to be just the preaching / 
want. I keep a book, in which I put down the 
heads of most of his sermons, which, when it is full, 
*5 



54 

I intend (if you would like) that you shall see, I 
suppose of an evening we have not less than four 
hundred and fifty people; in the day time not quite 
so many. There is a band of singers in the table 
pew, generally a bass viol is played, and Mr, H. 
preaches in a gown, and I think the people are more 
attentive than any I ever saw. Once in a fortnight 
Mr. H. preaches at the Work-house; I have been 
twice, and I like it very much. In the week day I 
go to the Methodist chapel, and sometimes hear a 
good sermon there. I find by the Magazine that 

Mr. S is at Spa-fields chapel. I have spoken 

often about him to you, and have mentioned him in 
my letters (though by the bye I spelt his name wrong.) 
He is a Cheshunt student — has preached very fre- 
quently at Hertford chapel. I would advise you ? 
if convenient, to go and hear him, for he is a very 
bold and very faithful preacher. If you do, give me 
a little account of the sermon, &c. If 1 were you, I 

would try to hear Mr. B- >'s missionary sermon. 

"I am very glad that you informed me of Mr. F.'s 
and Mr. W.'s conversation. I liked it all very well,- 
except that about my preaching, and indeed I had 
much rather that Mr. F. had not mentioned that for 
various reasons. If you have heard any more, pray 
tell it me. 

'He must not he put too forward.' 

"But you have> raised my curiosity very much 
about the certain minister, who has, unsolicitediy, 
offered you his recommendation for Hoxton. But 
why this reservedness? I shall expect a friendly, sat- 
isfactory reason for your not telling me his name, &c. 
Do you think that I would abuse your confidence? 
I hope not,— I think I should know better. As the 






53 

month is expired, you must tell me in your next 
more about it, as whether you have seen this certain 
minister? what he said to you? &c. &cc. I hope I 
have obeyed your request, and prayed for you; may 
God grant us both more of a praying spirit, and 
may he answer our petitions, one for another. I 
thank you for Mr. E.'s address. I have not yet 
wrote to him— must — though, Thomas, I think now 
I should be completely unhappy, were I again to have 
any thing to do with business, and I feel for you, as 
you say your time is wholly taken up in it every 
day from six in the morning to eleven at night, I 
hope that while your aversion to the cares of the 
world increases* your spiritual affections are more 
animated, and your whole soul, from day to day, 
transformed more into the likeness of our lovely 
Jesus. 

1 The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man 
availeth much? — You seem peculiarly pleased with 
this passage, observe therefore, 
1st. — That it is the righteous God regards;— -those 
who are redeemed by the Son 5 s blood;-— loved 
by the Father's grace;— -sanctified by the Spir- 
it's influence.-— Those who are weaned from the 
vanities of earth and time,— whose affections are 
set on things above;— in a word, who are born 
of God, and bound for heaven. 
2d. — That they must pray. — Prayer is the breath of 
the new-born soul, a believer cannot live with- 
out it, for 

'Prayer makes the darken 9 *! cloud withdraw; 

Prayer climbs the ladder Jacob saw; 

Gives exercise to faith and love, 

And brings down blessings from above .V— Newton, 



56 

3d. — They must pray fervently. 'Gold prayers/ 
saith one, 'do but beg a denial' In vain we 
offer up lifeless devotion to a heart-searching 
and rein-trying God. 
4th.— These prayers are effectual, and avail much^ 
they avail much in the sanctifying of our souls, 
and forming Christ there, 
"Pardon this digression, as these thoughts have 
just sprung from my own mind. 

"I hope you continue to enjoy your Sabbaths 
more than ever? How delightful it is 'to dwell in 
the house of the Lord all the days of our life, to behold 
the beauty of the Lord, and -inquire in his temple.— 
That was Mr. H.'s text last sabbath day morning 
and afternoon. In the morning he applied it to the 
church here below; showed what was meant by be- 
holding the beauty of the Lord, and inquiring in his 
temple, and how desirable it was, &c. In the after- 
noon, he applied all (with the greatest propriety) to 
heaven. Two very excellent sermons, 

"1 cannot yet give up the thought that we shall 
soon live together again; if we are to be so favored, 
how -thankful should I be; -if not* we must learn to 
know no will but God ? s, and acknowledge that the 
Judge of all the earth will do right, As yet let us 
not despair, but commit all our concerns into the 
hands of our covenant God and heavenly Father, 
We know he will do ail things well. My situatioa 
is as comfortable, or more so than ever, and I am 
considered like one of the family. We have a nice 
house, and here are only Mr. H. Mrs H. the little 
child about eight months old-^a sweet babe he is, 
■ — the servant and myself. I read Virgil in Latin 
now, and what I do learn of any thing serves to show 
me more of my ignorance. May the Lord keep me 






57 

humble, I- have theological questions to study, such 
as, 

'Wherein appears the possibiSiiy of a divine reve- 
lation? 

'Why is it desirable? Sec. 

tl I may consult books upon the subject, and here 
is a very good library. You will not forget your 
promise to write in your next about grace thriving 
in your heart, As for me it is with tardy steps I 
creep, sometimes joying, and sometimes sorrowing, 
And yet without boasting, I think I can say 1 have^ 
kn n wn nose of hear: religion since I have been here 
than before; but :*- ; s very little altogether. I have 
experienced many happy moments in secret, such 
times as remind me of our last Sabbath afternoon to- 
gether. But Q! what a deal of pride, rebellion, care- 
lessness, and all kinds of wickedness is there in my 
heart; I tremble to think of what 1 deserve for my 
former levity, &.c. — But O pray for me that I may 
find grace in the eyes of the Lord, and live to- some 
purpose in the world. Iain afraid that there are 
yet improper motives in my desiring the work of the 
ministry. Since I have been here I have seen some 
little of its nature, &c. I am sensible that no learn- 
ing, or human qualifications are enough to fit me 
for that all important work; and I hope that God 
will pour down showers of grace on me, instead 
of what I deserve, 'vials of wra.ih. 9 Wiien you 
give me a little account of your "growth in grace, 5 ' 
and how the lamp of religion keeps alive, I hope 
you will retrace some of the paths in which the 
Lord your God has led you, and tell me something 
of your former experience, present enjoyments, and 
future hope. If you wish to go on from one de- 
gree of grace unto a^&ther, which I: do not doubt. 



53 

cBmmime much with your own heart, read the' 
Bible as much as possible, and above all things 
\m\y fervently.— > I am perfectly well in health, as I 
hope you are. My father told rne in his letter r hat 
Mr. M— . is still at — — > and mat the chapel was 
sill continued- I sh mid like to have all ihe nam- 
bers of the Youth's Magazine (but September and 
October last, those I h ive) if I could have them 
sent conveniently; and it is not worth while to send 
by the coach, for you know the carriage will be more 
than the books are worth. Wishing you every spir- 
itual blessings I remain your affectionate and faithful 
friend, 

"Thomas Spenceiu 5 * 

No. 11* 

Harwich, May 9, 18061 

"MY BEAR FRIEND, 

"I received your two last letters with great 
pleasure. It is highly gratifying to me to discover a 
great, and I believe a growing attachment in you 
towards your friend, notwithstanding he is so far 
from you. In your letter of the 7th April you say you 
rather expected a gentle reproof from me for your 
not writing to- me; if so, what ought I to expect from 
you? But knowing- the kindness of your heart,. I 
forbear any more upon that subject. I was glad 
to hear of your comfortable interview with your 
friends at Coggeshall, and like your method well of 
consulting with your father on these occasions. 
Let us always manifest an obedient and dutiful re- 
gard to the advice of our parents; they, you know, 
are older than we, and more experienced; and the 
light of nature, as well as that of divine revelation^ 



59 

enjoins us to love, reverence, and obey them. I 
should not have expected that — — would have 
acted so generously and friendly, as it appears he 
has done, I think from these circumstances there 
appears (something like) the kind hand of Provi- 
dence, and I hope it will appear so to your satisfac- 
tion by and bye. I wait with anxiety the result of 

your intended interview with the Rev. — , of 

Chelmsford, and I need not tell you to make it a 
matter of prayer; you know full well the importance, 
necessity and poxver, of the prayer of faith. Your 
cousin Ford should remember that if the turn- 
pike road is got too bad for people to walk comfort^ 
ably in, the fields are more pleasant, as well as much 
nearer. How different are the views of good people, 
even in the most trifling things. When we get to 
heaven, there will be an end of all differences in sen- 
timent and disposition. But I would not have you im- 
agine that I (now) prefer Hoxton only on the account 
of its pleasantness, and the orthodox views of its sup- 
porters; but I would wish myself, arid would have 
you follow, the leadings of Providence in this as well 
as every other respect: if it appears the Divine Will 
for you to go to H omerton, by all means go; but if 
not, you of course will not. However, you may be 
sure of one thing, and that is, that your friend will love 
you none the less for your preference of Homerton. 
But I do think that Hoxton will be tha place for you. 
In your letter you have the remarkable words, 're- 
specting my intended subject, I do not remember 
that I promised an aceoun: v\ my own experience as 
to growth in grace.' • Now perhaps you did not 
mean so in the letter referred to, bu I understood it 
so> Your words xvv\x r I had a grear deal to write 
qf ; I mean tne besi things, as, how grace thrives in 



80 

the heart, &c. which I hope to question and write of 
in my next.' Now here by the word question I of 
course thought you meant me, by writing of it, 
some account of yourself. But it appears it was 
not so; and now I confess if it was not so designed, 
I do not know your meaning. I have been 
particular in bating this, in order to. pre vent mis- 
takes* I hope with you that in your present situ- 
ation you are learning lessons that will be ben- 
eficial to you all through 1 fe. I hope you will see 
more and moie rf the vanity of the pursuits of time 
and &£Q$c, and be more and more separated from a 
work! ijping in wickedness, as that is a good evidence 
of having found grace in the sight of the Lord. I 
perceive by your expressions that you are fired with 
zeal. 1 hope it is according to knowledge, and that 
you are not venturing upon what you may repent of 
in some future day. To say my own thoughts, I 
do not think you are influenced by any wrong mo- 
lives. I am pleased with your self dedication to 
God; and I heartily wish that he may hear all your 
prayers, bless you \\ith an increase of grace and 
gifts, if he think fit; but he that has the most grace 
makes the best minister, and will rise to glory, hon- 
or and immortality, at last, and shall shine as the 
stars in the firmament, and be forever blest; whilst 
the ungodly minister (O awful thought!) shall have 
his portion with hypocrites and unbelievers, shail be 
banished from the presence of the Lord, and be cast 
into outer darkness, the smoke of his torments as- 
cendingup forever and ever. I wish you could see- 
Brown's Address to his Students in Divinity which 
is prefixed to his View of Religion (an excellent 
body of diviniy.) You would there see something 
of the import of being a minister of the gospel. Ol 



m 

■my friend, it made me exclaim, 'who is sufficient for 
these things/' 

"There is certainly a great pleasure in receiving 
letters, and writing to each other; you and 1 experi- 
ence this, don't we? Indeed you dwell much on my 
mind. I think if we were to see each oilier again, 
and have a little good conversation, it would be like 
''cold water 'to -a thirsty soul;' it would refresh us, call 
again into more lively exercise our warm sensations 
of affection. What a blessing it is, I often think, that 
we ever met together. I am very glad that I ever lived 
at Mr. Thodey's; I there met with a worthy friend 
when I had none, learned a few lessons I was igno- 
rant of, and was introduced (in some measure by 
being there) to Mr. Wilson. Now it is true we 
are far from each other, but what then? You are 
pleased I knows at my little improvement in knowl- 
edge; and you, I hope, are about entering upon the 
ministerial office; and when I think of that, I also 
am highly pleased. A few weeks more, and some- 
thing will be done for you. I have often told you, 
both in conversation and correspondence, not to be 
discouraged at a view of your own insufficiency, and 
you know God has chosen the foolish things to con- 
found the wise, and he works by means that prove 
his sovereign hand. But I must hint that your low 
views of yourself will do you no harm. Go on to 
despise the world and all the enchanting allurements 
it holds out, and be vigilant, for the adversary of 
whom you speak is never idle. How does he tempt 
us to think lightly of religion — to foolish and unedi- 
fymg conversation — to offer up short, cold, and care- 
less prayers, and I know not what beside. Pray, 
then, that while Satan is attempting to damp, nay 
quench the rising flame, the Holy Spirit may pour in 
6 



-82 

plentifully the oil cf grace, and cause it to rise to all 
eternity.— You, I hope, do not intend to flatter me 
(for friends should never flatter, and I hate it) when 
you say, you think I am fitting for some active, ele- 
vated sphere in the cause of Christ. Ah! Thomas, 
you do not see how unworthy I am to be a door- 
keeper in the house of my God, as I do, much less 
fill some elevated station. And indeed did I possess 
the wisdom of Solomon, the learning of Paul, and 
the eloquence of A polios, without their piety what 
am 1? — ''Like sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbaV 
I feel my need of divine grace, without which I am 
less than nothing, and can do nothing. What a 
dreadful thing must it be to have our parents, teach- 
ers, seminaries, gifts, examples* our Bibles, books, 
instructions, vows and resolutions, prayers and ser- 
mons, all rise up in judgment against us! The 
thoughts of it are enough to make our blood run 
cold. May - the glorious and gracious God forbid 
such a doom for Jesus Christ's sake. To this I 
know you will say c Arnen. ? On the other hand, 
how glorious must be the lot of the faithful sent 
.minister of the gospel: methinks I see him rising 
(^t the judgment day) from the long sleep of death, 
with a smile of holy pleasure on his sacred counte- 
nance, and heavenly glory in his soul. I see him 
approach the tribunal of his reconciled Judge, and 
having the pardon of all his sins made manifest be- 
fore an assembled world, with a goodly number of 
seals to his ministry, he exclaims in the language of 
holy gratitude, peace, and triumph, Here am T f 
Father, and the children thou hast given meP O 
^inay such blessedness be yours and mine; this 
/Tyi!l ten thousand times more than compensate for 



6& 

the troubles and trials met with in the ministry* 
Amen, saith your longing soul. 

"Saturday, May 10,— With respect to the work 
of grace on my own heart, I feel shy to say much 
about it, fearing that after all my profession I should 
become a cast-away, and the root of the matter not 
be in me. I feel such a lifeless frame of mind, such 
coldness in prayer, in short, I indeed think that I 
have more evidences of reigning sin than of the life 
of religion. I wish to 'read my title clear to mansions 
in the skies. 5 I wish to be more Christ-like, more 
heavenly and spiritual; but I can only say with Da- 
vid, * 'My < soul lies cleaving to the dust, quicken thou 
me according to thy word? I would fain believe, my 
God help and subdue my unbelief I dare not say 
any thing, but hope and trust at present, nay hardly 
that, for I often feel such a gloom upon my mind that 
you cannot conceive of. I think it is wrong ur gi\ e 
way to it, and I fear if I 'did I should become quie 
melancholy. One reason is, that I want my friend/ 
and feel his loss. If you were heie, how could we 
relax our minds from study by a pleasant walk and 
agreeable conversation. When I walk out, (if Mr." 
Hordle is not with me) there is no person whose 
company I much value. Sometimes one of the 
boys that Mr. Hordle teaches is with me; but I be- 
lieve he had rather be at play than conversing about 
any thing that would do him good; and really I have 
walked so much alone lately that it gets quite in- 
sipid. When I first came, I jnjoyed my solitary 
walks much better than I do now — what is the rea- 
son? I cannot tell: it is, however, one great com- 
fort that I am so well provided for. Mr. and Mrs. 
H. had an only child, but eight months old, I think 
the most beautiful and lovely boy 1 ever saw: his 



64 

smiles had often filled our hearts with joy, and the 
openings of his infant mind were delightful as the 
blossoms in spring. Though so young, he knew 
very well I loved him, and I know he was very fond 
of me— so pleased on roy return after ! had been 
out, and so very sensible for a child of his age. 
"When I wrote you last he lay very ill, and I believe 
died the day after. His death grieved me very 
much, and I could .not study for some time; but it 
is a comfort to reflect that he is now present with the 
Lord, and forever blest, But what a trial to lose 
him! I felt much for his parents, who doatecl on 
Mm; and I confess I never loved a child as I did 
him. — I think if we were to" live together again, how 
happy we should be: li mean where we could pur- 
sue our studies together, If you are at Hoxton 
when I am, I hope we shall be in the same class. I 
should like you to go in just before me, or when I 
do, that so I might not be quite a stranger in the 
house, and have no one there that I know, for that 
would be very uncomfortable. You and I used to 
interest ourselves very much in the case of the high- 
way man that broke out of Hertford jail, and passed 
for a serious man. My father informs me ? that he 
has been taken in his old courses, and hung a little 
while ago at Lancaster, an awful instance of hypoc- 
risy and deoeit. I read in a newspaper, that he gave 
a paper there to the church minister, in which he 
said, that he had broke open fifty houses, stole thirty 
•horses, and committed more highway robberies than 
his memory could recollect. With respect to join- 
ing a church, I think it is your duty, as you therein 
give yourself up to God in solemn dedication—. 
—make a more open profession of his gospel, and 
declare yourself on the Loid's. side. Join that 



church, (be which it vviil) where you enjoy much 
under the ministry, where you have often received 
spiritual nourishment for your immortal soul. I 
think you will do wrong if you do not join God's 
people in that manner, for it is an incumbent duty. 
Your going to Hoxton would not make any differ- 
ence, for the students there sit down at the different 
places in London — some at Hoxton chapel — some at 
Mr. Brooksbank's — some at Mr, Clayton's, and in 
short wherever they have been members before; or 
where the minister admits them as occasional com-< 
municants; For myself, I cannot yet think of doing 
it. I am glad you are reading Haliburton's life, and 
hope you will find it profitable. I hardly know what 
to do abc*»;t the Youth's Magazine — carriage is too 
dear; however, I think you had better send them 
with your next letter; all, you know, except Septem- 
ber and October last, which I have. 

"Questions lately studied. — 'What perfections 
dwell in God, and how do you prove them to be in 
him without referring to the Scriptures? 5 

" 'How do you prove that the scriptures are the 
word of God?' 

" 'How do we know tnat the scriptures have been 
faithfully conveyed to us,, and not corrupted?' 

<; I have not heard any thing of Samuel for these 
two letters; hope he is well. Make my best respects 
to him. And now, commending yon- to our glorious 
Saviour, and hoping that one day it will appear more 
particularly, that we were designed for great bles- 
sings to each other, I remain, 

"Your affectionate and faithful friend, 

"Thomas Spencer."- ' 



fe% 



66 

No. 12. 

Harwich, June 14, 1806* 

"MY DEAREST FRIEND, 

"I received your parcel the morning after 
you sent it, and read your letter with the greatest 
pleasure. You judge rightly when you say, you sup- 
pose that I was anxiously waiting to hear from you. 
The providential dealings of God with you have (I 
hope) filled me with wonder and praise. Surely 
both of us have great reason to say, Bless the Lord, 
O my souU and all that is within me bless his holy 
name.' Let us not forget any of his benefits, but for 
these displays of his goodness, dedicate our bodies 
and souls to his glory, which is only our reasonable 
service. Let us both rejoice, that God has put this 
his treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of 
the power may be oj God and not of man. Little did 
you expect a few years ago, that you should be pro- 
videntially called into the work of the ministry; but 
now you can rejoice, that unto you, who, in your 
own vieiv^ are less than the least of ail the saints, is 
this grace given, that you might preach among poor 
sinners the unsearchable riches of Christ. Observe 
now the dealings of Providence in this circumstance* 
You are in a waiting frame, and when so God ap- 
pears to grant you the desire of your heart. He has 
now made your path clear before you, and as to its 
being the call of God, I have not the least doubti 
but, however, I hope you will recollect, that though 
your way has been thus shewn to you, it may not 
always be so; difficulties, great and many, may 
await us both in our journey through life; but God 
has said, when thou passest through the waters, I 
will be with thee, and will prevent the floods from 
overflowing thee. Having such promises as these ? 



m 

my dear friend, let us press forward, and with holy 
resignation say, 'Where he appoints I'll go and 
dwell.' 'Tis true, we know not what a day may 
bring forth; but this we know, thai God will never 
forsake those who put their trust in him, but will be 
their sun to illumine them, their shield to defend 
them, and their God eternally to Bless them. I do 
not at all wonder at your being perplexed in your 

mind about mentioning matters to *.- Had I 

been in your state, I should have dreaded it; but you 
did well in making it a matter of prayer before; God, 
and God was- very gracious in ordering it as he has 
done. You know that prayer to God is the best way 
of making things sure- — so you I trust, have found it. 
I should like to know the other circumstances at 
which you hint, but I dare say they are too tedious 
to mention; perhaps we may see each other soon, 
when conversation will settle it. I am much pleas- 
ed, nay delighted, with the conversation you had 
with Mr. W. He is, I doubt not, a warm friend to 
the cause of Christ, and does all he possibly can to 
forward it in the world. I am like him in regard to 
zealous and earnest preachers, and like to see ani- 
mation and life in a pulpit, and where the preacher's 
mind is fettered with notes there can be none. You 
know I thought, when I lived with you, that ■ 
and — — were good sort of men; they would not do 
any harm, but wanted to see something of their 
growing usefulness. I don't doubt, but I shall soon 
have a letter from you, dated Hoxtou Academy, &c, 
and I wish we may be there together, for it will be 
very awkward for you or me at first to go there when 
there is nobody we know. I wish we might be in 
the same class, 8cc. so that we might be helpers one 
to another, and shew that we are the servants of the 
living God. I know that Mr, H, writes to Mr. W. 



§8 

about me. I know I am, as Mr. W. says, young 
and inexperienced; but I want divine grace, &c. to 
strengthen me for every duty, and prepare me for 
every duty. But, however, I don't think that Mr.. 
T. knows any thing about the time when I shall be 
admitted. Though I did not mention it in my last r 

yet I do not think that Mr. 's is a proper church 

for you to join as a student; when considered as a 
Christian, merely, it would do very well, but as now 
you are to consider yourself as about entering the 
work of the ministry, it alters the case.. I never 

heard Mr. , therefore know nothing of him, or 

his church; but Mr, B. I have heard more than once 
or twice; and if I were to recommend any church 
that I know in London as proper for you to join, it 
should be his. I have often thought that I should 
like to sit under him myself. Concerning your re* 
Bgious experience—doctrinal sentiments — and minis- 
terial motives* — I should rather think that your own 
plan, however simple, would be much better than 
any I can prescribe; but as you know most of my 
tenets pretty well, I do not know that I shall now 
write a confession, but will here give you a few di- 
rections only, which, if you like, you can adopt, bwt * 
if not, discard them totally. In your religious ex- 
perience, I would observe the order of time, state 
when you first received serious impressions, how 
they were fastened on your mind, what effect they 
had on your conduct, &c. in your own way. In 
your doctrinal sentiments, begin with the object of 
worship — God. State your views of the persons in 
the Godhead, quote scripture to prove your ideas of 
the Trinity. Then about man, his creation, fall, ru- 

* Referring to that summary of his \iews on these points, which as a candi- 
date for admission into Hoxton Academy, his friend was about to present to the^ 
committee of that institution; 



69 

in, recovery, and so on. Be particular in saying 
there is no salvation but in Christ. Speak your 
opinion of the influences of the Spirit, the efficacy of 
divine grace in the conversion of sinners. The 
dealings of God with his people. The doctrines of 
election, perseverance, &c. Then that you think, (if 
you do) that it is the duty of all men to believe the 
gospel (I believe it.) That God will soon judge the 
world. That sinners will be sent to -hell, .and saints 
taken to heaven and glory, &c. See. I have read Mr* 
H — — _' s piece against C. and I by no means approve 
of it. He evidently has written on a subject for 
which he is by no means capable; for he -does not 
at all understand the difference between natural and 
moral -.inability: — -on which my mind has lately been 
much em ployed, and about which Mr. H; and I have 
conversed. There have been two pieces about it in 
some of the last numbers of the Evangelical Maga- 
zine. Now, natural or physical inability is such as 
a man feels who, we'll suppose, is quite blind, when 
another tells him to open his eyes. Now this is nat- 
urally impossible. Msrtik inability is such as a ma a 
feels if he is told, for instance, to come to Harwich, 
He says, I am very busy, and indeed 1 can't come: 
now we know he might come if he would. He 
has power to walk to- tne' coach, &o. but his cannot 
is his will not, Now, which of -hese Uvo -is -the ina- 
bility of sinners to come 10 Christ? Pause- here a 
moment, and think. I once vv,-.s almost ready to 
suppose, it was like tim of a bhru man to open his 
eyes; but if so, why dots God command him tOjsec? 
Why does he feel remorse that he has not done so, 
on his death-bed, or at other times? He knows he 
might have done otherwise if he would The 
swearer may forbear to take God's name in v .in if 
he will; can he not? If not, why will not God hold 



him guiltless? Their defect then is not natural but 
mora!: that is, it is a defect in the will, which noth- 
ing but grace can remedy. Now* then, I am well 
convinced with Mr. C. that the defect is not natural, 
but moral— what think you? Perhaps you never 
thought much on the subject. I would advise you 
to read a little tract of Moseley's on the subject. 
Now Mr. H. does not understand this distinction; 
but supposes, by saying it is not natural, we mean, 
that it is not common to all, or universal: now we 
know it is, and that in -this- sense it is not natural: 
but had Mr. C. used the word physical, or explained 
his meaning a little, perhaps he would not have been 

attacked by an Antinomical. 

"I am very glad you sent the Youths' Magazines.* 
I like them very well. I am very sorry you were 
not at prayer meeting in time; but I attach not the 
least blame to you, because of your hard work on 
Saturday, and so late. I think there is generally 
something to imbitter cur comforts a little. I should 
also have rather heard that you were very happy in 
the time of prayer* than that you were very uncom- 
fortable; but don Y be cast down. Mr. W, encour- 
ages you; your friends do the same, and God appears 
to be on your side; and you know if he is for you, 
none can prevail against you. Do, now, take en- , 
eouragement from thta circumstance of the cheese- 
monger's man, (now the Rev X. G. of Devon,) and 
Mr. C. Sic. and I am confident that as God sends you 
into the work of the ministry, he will give you abili- 
ties sufficient. Trust, then, in him — pray to him— 
be humble — be resigned — and I do hope you will 
experience divine consolations, heavenly support, 
and abilities sufficient. The preaching at the poor- 
house pleased me^much; your text was very appre- 






71 

priate; and there is something in the nature of the gos* 
pel which is peculiarly adapted to the poor. Now 
there does not seem any congruity between a fine 
chapel, very elegant and grand, with carriages at the 
door for the hearers, and ihe doctrines of the meek 
and lowly Jesus. This does not, I .say, appear fit; 
and the gospel was originally preached to the poor. 
I am glad you was not embarrassed at all, and hope 
you will be the means of doing much good. Get 
your subject well into your mind for Mr. K.'s room; 
think of how you shall arrange it, &c. as Mr. W. told 
you. Tell me in your next your plan, heads, &c. and 
whether you use notes or no. If you think you cannot 
do without short ones, use them; but do not slavishly 
attend to them. I think you had better work it well 
into your mind first, and then deliver it extempore, 
or without notes. Don't' be too delicate, or mind too 
much the smells of rooms, and so on; but consider 
Him who endured all kinds of hardships, lest you be 
weary and faint in your mind. I find I must not ex- 
pect to hear from you till after your examination in 
Julys well, let me have the more when you do send. 
About the logical definition, I shall say no more; on- 
ly that I think you are very much mistaken when 
you imagine thatT increase so much in knowledge, 
for I really do not think I do so much as I ought; 
indeed these blundering letters are evidence of it, so 
pray don't flatter. I did write a little in my last about 
my present experience, I believe, because, I thought 
it was what you wanted. You say it is not quite 
possible to recollect all one has written in a former 
letter: I say, I know it is quite impossible. You 
say you should like to see the answers to the ques- 
tions which I sent you; having room, I mil trans- 
cribe some of them for you. 



"Question.*— 4 How do you prove the existence of 
a God, without referring to the scriptures, 4 or from 
the light of nature?' 

"Answer. — c ( lst -) All nations, heathens, Jews, 
Mahometans, and Christians, harmoniously consent 
that there is a God, who created, preserves, and 
governs the world. 5 

"'(2d) There is a great impression of Deity on 
the mind of every man; that is, an indistinct idea of 
his being, and a. readiness to acquiesce in the truth of 
his existence* 1 

" '(3d) The works of creation demonstrate it; their 
alterations and -dependence prove them not to have 
been from eternity — they could not form themselves 
—chance could not produce them — matter cannot 
change its own form, or produce life or reason; there- 
fore there must be a God.' 

" '(4th) It is agreed from the support and gov- 
ernment of the world— the heavenly bodies — sea- 
sons—weather — vegetables — -sagacity and instinct of 
animals — herbs, &c»' 

" '(5th) From the punishments which have been 
inflicted on nations and persons for their excessive 
immoralities.' 

" *(6th) From the terror and dread which wound 
men's consciences when guilty of crimes which oth- 
er men do not know, or are not able to punish or 
restrain, as in the case of Nero, Domitian, and others, 
and that, too, when they labored to persuade them- 
selves and others, that there was no God, &c.' — See 
Brown, Doddridge's Lectures, Ridgley, Buck's Dic- 
tionary^ &c. 

"Question — 'How do you prove that the scrip- 
tures have been faithfully conveyed to us?' 



73 

'" Answer.-— r Xn translations those books retain 
manifest marks of their Eastern original.' 

"Notwithstanding all that Christ and his apostles 
inveighed against the wickedness of the Jews they 
never charged them with corrupting a single text in 
the Bible. The various sects among the Jews, viz, 
Pharisees, Sadducees, &c. have rendered it impossi- 
ble that they could corrupt them, as well as the an- 
imosiues which have ever since prevailed between 
the Jews and Christians, so that neither of them could 
vitiate these sacred oracles, without being shameful- 
ly detected. Had the Jews attempted to corrupt 
these sacred books it would certainly have been in 
those passages in which the fearful wickedness of 
their nation is described, and Jesus Christ magnified 
and honored; but in none of them do we find the least 
mark of concealment or corruption. That they 
should be corrupted among Christians, is equally in- 
credible: such was the multitude of copies, hearers, 
readers, and even sects, among them, that it is im- 
possible they should ever have succeeded. Through 
the errors of transcribers, &c. the comparer of a mul- 
titude of copies cannot fail to find a number of trans- 
lations.' — See Brown's View of Religion. * 

"Question. — 'What proofs have you that man was 
at first created righteous and holy? 5 

"Answer -—(1st) 'Universal tradition; for all na- 
tions have supposed mankind to have once been in a 
iioly and happy state.' 

" '(2d) The nature of things; for it seems very im- 
probable that so holy and so good a God should have 
formed mankind, in the original constitution of their 
nature, in so corrupt and sinful a state.' 
7 



m 



€M '(3d) The natural resemblance men have \6 God 
In the spirituality, intelligence, and immortality of 
their souls.— Gen. ix, 6. James iii, 9. 

" '(4th) The express declarations of scripture: 
Eccl. vii, 29. Gen. i, 26, 27. Colos. iii, 10. Eph. 
iv,24.> 

"These will new serve you for further meditating 
on, as well as the subject of natural and moral inabil- 
ity; your opinion of which I shall expect in your next 
letter. If you can, I would advise you to get Mose- 
ley's Piece, or read attentively the pieces in the Mag- 
azine; one of them is a letter from Dr. Watts — -I 
told Mr. Hordle about your present prospects; I did 
not see any occasion to secret it, as Mr. W. knows 
it, and so many others: he is pleased on the account 
of it. He will be in London, if spared and well, on 
Wednesday the 24th instant, but do not think he will 
he there long enough to preach, for he is going much 
further, and will be away for a month, at which time 
we expect a supply from Hoxton: we shall have a 
student come down and stay all the time; which of 
them it will be I do not know. I have spoken to 
Mr. H. about Brown's View of Religbn, and he says 
it is quite at your service: I shall enclose it, and 
hope you will read it attentively through — be sure 
you read the address to students, at the beginning; 
when you have done with it, (he will not mind your 
keeping it a month or more) send it by coach. In 
it you will find a whole body of divinity in a very lit- 
tle compass. The part on the light and law of na- 
ture is very excellent. He was a most eminent man, 
and mighty in the scriptures: may you and I be like 
him. 1 am glad to hear the good news you give me 
of your brother; I hope it will appear to be the work 
of grace upon his soul and that he may really be con- 



verted. I like your plan of having a prayer -meeting ; 
much— may you all experience the blessings you 
pray for. 

' ; As to drawing landscapes and plans you know 
I :never was any hand at it, nor do I think of do- 
ing any thing in it; if I do, you shall have it. Per- 
haps X may give Samuel a note, You cannot re- 
ceive this until Tuesday raorning, although written, 
on Saturday, because of the coach, so that I shall 
have time enough between now and then for think- 
ing if there be any thing else to send. Wishing you 
every spiritual and temporal blessing, I remain your 
affectionate, though unworthy, friend, 

"Thomas- Spencer*' 5 

No. 13. \ 

September 4, 1806. ; 

iC MY DEAREST FRIEND,- 

"How wonderfully has Providence appeared 
for you and for me. This time twelvemonth be- 
held us both buried in a glove-shop — -buried, did I 
say— I recall the word, for we then enjoyed what we 
do not now, mutual conversation, -and each other's 
company. ; Let us hope that the lime may come 
vvhen we shall again enjoy that. I am very glad 
that you suceed^d so well as you ■did in your ser- 
mon before the committee; take encouragement 
from that circumstance to trust God for all your fu- 
ture discourses. The Sabbath day, August 17, 
though I found that I could not conveniently omit 
any one of the services, yet I assure you I did not 
forget your request. I cannot say that I think it is 
right (especially in me) to omit public worship 
for private devotion. And if I had done it, my con- 



"76 

duct would in all probability have been more inspec- 
ted about it than I should wish. I have not seen * 
the rules of Hoxton Academy; I do not think Mr. 
H. has them; should like to see them much; hope 
you will send them next time. I am fully persuad- 
ed of the propriety, nay, duty, of your joining your- 
self to a church, which now I hope you have done; 
but for my own part, I must confess I have excuses 
for not doing it; and what church could I join now? 
Perhaps you say, Mr. Hordle's. I answer, there is 
no church I should so like to be a member of as his; 
but do you see a propriety in my being a member 
he;;e, when I do rot expect to be here any longer 
than Christmas? There could not in my view have 
been a more suitable pastor for you than Mr. B. I 
hope you will find his people as suitable as himself, 
I approve too of your attending the prayer meeting 
at his place of a morning, and hope you find that 
convenient. May you have precious opportunities 
in the chapel, at the Lord's table, and at the prayer 
meeting. You praise my verses too much. Indeed 
they were only the hasty productions of a few mo- 
ments, and I have no copy of them, for I only wrote 
them on a slate, and then copied them on the letter. 
However, I am glad you receive them as a token of 
our regard and growing affection for each other. * 
I would advise you by all means & be very friendly 
with the young men, those with whom you can con- 
sistently be so. I mean the more pious, and those 
whom you feci most disposed to associate with. 
There are, no doubt, a variety of tempers, dispositions 
and ways in the academy, and it is there, I dare say, as 
hi other places, some good and some bad. I do not 

* Those who may be anxious to see these verses inserted in the Memoirs, 
•^re referred to page 12 ; for the reasons of their omission. 



77 

wo'nder at your finding study to be wearisome and 
laborious. Solomon found it so. — Ecel. xii, 12. 
Others find it so. I sometimes find it so, but I am 
persuaded it will not be always so with you; and you 
should recollect that it is so different from what you 
have lately been engaged in, that I should wonder if 
it did not appear s'range to you. But I should like 
to know what you are studying that is so difficulty 
is it Latin, Greek, English, Hebrew, or what? Now 
I do long to be there for the sake of your company 
as much as you wish me there. Q, how charming 
it would be for us to study together. How cheer- 
fully would I give you every instruction in my pow- 
er. Hon* willingly would I forego my own studies 
for the sake of improving the mind of a dear friend! 
— Such a time -may come, and that's all I know of 
it;;fbr, as to when it will be, I confess I know no more 
than you do. This only I know, that I shall leave 
Mr. Horclle at Christmas, and shall then see you; 
my father, mother, &c who I know, will be pleased 
to see me; but whether I shall come again to Mr. 
Hordle's or not, I believe nobody knows. I think 
that it is more likely that you should know before 
me, for Mr. Wilson and the committee have the man- 
agement of it. 1 have one request to make to you 
which I hope you will grant, and that is that you 
write to my father at Hertford to tell him whtre you 
now are, &c. I know he will be very glad to hear 
of your welfare. Tell him that it was by my desire 
you write to him, &c. ; This request you must, must 
fulfil. I hope then my dear friend, you may be kept 
of God from following evil examples, (if such there 
be in a dissenting academy) and that it may appear 
that you are designed to fill some important station 
in the church of Jesus. Would it be amiss if we 
#7" : 



78 

were both to learn Doddridge's 72d hymn, entitled, 
4 Isaiah 5 s Obedience to the Heavenly Vision.' I know 
you will like the hymn much. There is one thing 
1 do not like in Hoxton Academy, that is, their not 
learning Hebrew without the points, which are little 
dots or specks put under and about the letters. See- 
on the commandments which are hung over the fire- 
place in the. lecture room at the academy, if thefe are 
not such. Now about these points there is a great 
dispute between the punctists and those who are not 
for their use. The punctists (Mr. S. is a strong one) 
contend that they are of great use. Some say they 
are of divine authority. The great Mr. Romaine, 
and the late learned Mr. Parkhurst, oppose this idea, 
and say that they are only little dots or specks added 
by ill designing men to the letters. I feel inclined 
to believe them. Now, I dread almost the learning 
it with points, as it is extremely difficult; without 

them it is simple and easy. Mr. H thinks they 

are of use, but does not think them of equal authori- 
ty to the letters; and scarcely ever reads with them. 
Now, he thought it best for me to learn it without 
points with him, and then at the academy I could 
learn with them, and so read both ways. I have com- 
piled a lexicon myself, containing the roots of all the 
words in the language — that is, I have quite abridged 
Parkhurst's very valuable one (and what no Hebrew 
student should be without) into a portable form for 
my own use. Now, I hope your mind will be eased, 
and your anxiety removed, and with the warmest 
affection, I remain, 

"Your ever faithful friend, 

"Thomas Spencer." 



79 
No. 14. 

Harwich, Oct. 14, 1806. 

c Wt DEAREST FRIEND, 

"As it is now considerably more than a month 
since 3 r ou wrote me a note from Hoxton Academy, 
and I answered it, I conclude that a letter from me 
will be what you now desire; and yet lam not quite 
certain whether you should not have written first; 
but by way of compensation for my too long silence 
before, I am willing to converse with you on paper. 
And as Mr. Hordle is gone to Ipswich to-day, to an 
association of ministers, and I have nothing particu- 
lar to be engaged in besides, I embrace the opportu- 
nity. You are now, I suppose, a little inured to 
study, and begin to find the difficulties of a student's 
life not so many as you apprehended they were. I 
long to know in what studies you are engaged, and 
how you like them. I have just begun the Greek 
language; so of course do not know much about if, 
my time having been of late principally employed in 
the Hebrew, of which I am very fond, especially as 
1 now read it 'unsophisticated by Rabinical points. 9 
I please myself with the idea of seeing and convers- 
ing with you in the course of about ten weeks; but 
at that time there will be something else which I 
shall not so much admire. Do you ask me what it 
is? It is, my dear friend, nothing less than appear- 
ing before the committee of Hoxton Academy. The 
thought of it makes me almost tremble. Yesterday 
morning Mr. Hordle told me that I must prepare 
the account of my experience, sentiments and mo- 
tives for wishing the ministry by November, to be 
then laid before the gentlemen of the committee. 
This you know must be done; tmd when I go to 



80 ; 

London about Christmas, I must go through all that 
painful task, which, as -it -respects you, is -all over. 
He told me, too, that he supposed there would be 
some demur about admitting me, merely on the ac- 
count of my youth; but he does not know that it will 
be so as to hinder my admittance. Mr. Wilson has t 
it appears, written to Mr. H. about it; so, if the affair 
succeeds well, I shall be in the Academy after Christ- 
mas with you. That one circumstance, your com- 
pany and friendship, (vill make amends for all my 
trouble of mind on the occasion, You may be sure 
I shall communicate every circumstance to you, and 
keep nothing back, that so by one occurrence and 
another, our mutual attachment and sincere friend- 
ship may be increased and strengthened. What a 
long separation we have experienced; may we be 
brought together again to strengthen each other V 
hands, and be both engaged in the best employment. 
You must inform me in your next, how long you 
think it will be before you begin to preach, and tell 
me all your places of preaching, texts, plans, &c. I 
hope }*ou have written to my father, as I requested 
vou would. I believe they are going on as usual at 
Hertford. Mr. M. continues among them. May 
great grace rest upon them all* I do not doubt that 
I shall feel some degree of uneasiness when the time 
comes for my separation from my friends here at 
Harwich. I mean such as Mr. Hcrdle, &c. &c. 
But my satisfaction will be, that I shall see you who 
are still, and I hope ever will be, my dearest friend. 
We live in a world of changes. Life is indeed a 
chequered scene. And here we have no continuing 
city. May we seek one to come. May it be our 
happiness to enjoy the favor 01 Him who never chan- 
ges, but is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever* 



81 

When I consider my exceeding sinfulness and de- 
pravity, besides my inability, I feel almost disposed to 
xv'xsh rny views had never been directed towards the 
ministry, but it does appear a call of Providence. 
How could I do any thing' else than come here. And 
now, perhaps, a door, may be opened even for my 
being a student at Hoxton; but I shall go there un- 
der several disadvantages; for, being so young, I may 
expect a good deal of contempt from some self-suffi- 
cient and arrogant students, (if such there are) and 
you know they stay no longer than four years, and 
after that I shall be but twenty years old, and what 
can I then say to old experienced Christians. I do 
indeed feel a deal of discouragement. "O may the 
Lord encourage me," &c. But I shall come under 
some advantages; for, as I am not altogether ignorant 
of many things taught at Hoxton Academy, I shall 
find my studies easier than if I had to begin learning 
them, &c. I wish we could be in one class. Another 
disadvantage which Mr. Hordle has told me of is 
this— The students generally spend their money 
which they are paid for preaching, in books,^ &c* 
Now, I shall be too young to preach for at least these 
four years, consequently I can have no books, &q„ 

* It may perhaps be considered as departing from the design of this volume s 
or descending too much to minute particulars — yet I cannot satisfy myself with- 
out directing the eyes of those gentlemen who may have the care of providing 
supplies for the pulpit in destitute churches, or in cases of the pastor's absence, 
to this important circumstance. But few of the students in our academies are 
overbarthened with money — yet money is absolutely necessary for the purchase 
of books, without which their studies must be considerably retarded. Deacons, 
and others whom it may concern, should bear this in mind, in the compliments 
which they may make them for their occasional services; and remember, that there 
is no case in which they can with greater delicacy or propriety, display a gen- 
erous regard to their wants in this respect, than when thus remunerating them 
for their acceptable labors. It is needless to express a disapprobation, which 
every candid mind must feel, of a conduct directly the reverse of this, which is 
perh-ps too often practised when the consideration is diminished for the very 
reason on account of which it ought to be increased— it is but a student 



till that time. This appears a very great disad van- 
tage. However, I would wish to leave all in the 
hands of God. He knows what is best for me. Arid 
if I am one of those who love God, and are the called 
according to his purpose, he will make all things 
work together for my good. I want that calm dis- 
position which is careful for nothing, .but in every 
thing by prayer and supplication makes known its 
requests unto God. I often reflect on the dealings 
of -Providence with us when I first -came to Mr. lYs. 
You, I suppose, had not the least prospect of being 
a student at Hoxton. And I could not see how my 
coming there to learn that business, could at all fur. 
ther my preparation for that sacred work. We there 
became friends. I was there just long enough to se- 
cure ,a worthy and affectionate friend* and to have 
the notice of Mr. Wilson. Now you, too, have left 
Mr. T. and are in the academy. I went, you know, 
home, not knowing what the event would be. . Pro- 
vidence has sent me here; and O, "what am I, or 
my fathers house, that he has brought me, hitherto. 55 
We are now blind to futurity. We know not where 
we shall be placed in future life, whether far from, or 
near to each other. I hope you are happy in your 
own soul, and that you live near to God. There is 
a great danger of forgetting the concerns of our own 
souls, whilst we are constantly employed in studying 
divine jhings. I know a little of this from experi- 
ence, and perhaps you do. I hope you continue to 
pray for me; that I may be kept from sin and evil, 
for you know Hhe effectual fervent prayer of a right- 
eous man availeth much? Does your brother David 
make progress in the divine life? Yqu must, in your 
next letter, give me some account of the change 
which I hope is wrought iniim, for I feel an affect 



83 

tionate regard for all who belong to you. I ought 

to write to Mr. E- . Is he°well? When you see 

him, remember me to him, and also to your cousin 
F — — . Tell him to write to me, if it will suit him. 
You may, likewise, if you please, tell him how my 
affairs stand, as I have stated to; you. It will be 
needless for me to give you any advice respecting 
the composition of your sermons, or the prosecution 
of your studits, as you, without doubt, have access 
to so many books on the subject. I hope you will 
read 'Watts' Improvement of the Mind.' I think it 
must be charming to attend Walker's lectures on 
philosophy. Do you attend them? I should like it 
very much. Mr. H. told me, that he did give lec- 
tures at the academy: of course you are there when 
he does. You know now when to expect me in Lon- 
don, a little before Christmas, cannot say the exact 
day; so that now, if you like, you may count the 
time. Do not be long before you let me hear from 
you; and when you write, write a good deal. I re- 
main with the tenderest affection, your sincere and 
faithful friend, 

"Thomas Spencer.' 5 



Such at this early age, were the letters of this 
amiable youth. For the introduction of so largea num- 
ber it is unnecessary to apologize, since that heart is 
surely in an unenviable state which can derive no 
pleasure or profit from their perusal Their sim- 
plicity is not their smallest ornament: whilst for the 
many useful hints which they suggest, as well as 
for the fervent and exalted piety which breathes 
throughout the whole, they may be consulted with 
considerable advantage by youthful candidate&for the 



84 

sacred office. Let such as early feel the desires he 
■felt, and pant with an equal ardor for the work of 
God, imitate his modest diffidence' — his devotional 
temper— his jealousy of the motives which influenced 
his choice— his intimate communion with his own 
heart—his love of retirement — his habitual reference 
of his affairs to the will of God — -his addictedness to 
self examination and to prayer—and above all, that 
deep and solemn consciousness of the important work 
in which he desired, with fear and trembling, to be 
engaged! 

In resuming the thread of the narrative, which the 
introduction of these extracts from his* correspon- 
dence has suspended, it cannot but be gratifying 
to the reader, to be presented with that deep im- 
pression of Mr. Spencer's call and qualifications 
for the Christian ministry, which his familiar inter- 
course with him had produced on Mr. Hordle's 
mind. 

In a recent letter to a friend, that gentleman 
observes:— 

*'I have had but one opinion concerning our late 
young friend, which is — that he vvas born a preacher, 
and as much called to it, as Jeremiah to the prophet- 
ic, or Paul to the apostolic office. All the powers of 
his soul were evidently formed for it. While he was 
under my roof, preachers and preaching were the con- 
stant topics of his discourse; and those studies which 
had an immediate reference to them were his delight. 
His remarkable gift in prayer, though then just turn- 
ed of fifteen, astonished and pleased all that heard 
him. He usually took his turn in leading the de- 
votions of our little family; and in his attendance 
on my ministry, I have sometimes seen the feel- 



m 

ings of his heart in the tears that gushed from his 
eyes." 

In perfect accordance with these sentiments are 
those expressed by the same gentleman, in a letter 
to a friend at Liverpool, dated Harwich, 13th Dec. 

"Of his genuine piety, his fine imagination, his 
rarly attachment to theological pursuits, his love of 
study in general, his amiable disposition, and the 
powerful bias of his mind to the wodb of the Chris- 
tian ministry, I have repeatedly declared my firm 
conviction; and had Divine Providence spared his 
valuable life, I have no doubt, as his judgment rip- 
ened, his character, excellent as it was, would still 
have improved," 

Whilst such were the impressions, so truly hon- 
orable to his character, left upon his tutor's heart 
by the sweetness of his temper, and the vigor of his 
mind-— it is pleasing also to observe the grateful and 
lively remembrance which the pupil cherishes of 
the kindness of his early friend. 

In a letter addressed to the Rev. Mr. Hordle, from 
Hertford, he observes: — 

"The day of my examination is now fixed for the 
7th of January, To that day, dear Sir, I look for- 
ward with trembling: raay God grant me all that 
strength and boldness I shall then need. Ir is im- 
possible for me to describe my feelings the night I 
left yoti, I tried to suppress any outward expres- 
sions of them as well as I could. But G! 'tis try- 
ing to part with friends who are become very dear to 
us; but is it not, also, comforting to look forward to 
a never ending eternity, when those who are cement- 
ed into one glorious body by the bonds of divine 
love shall never part?" Afterwards he adds:— c, For 
8 



m 

my part, I desire to be entirely his, (God's) but 
still I find a heart of unbelief, ever prone to depart 
from the living God. I hope I feel my own unfit- 
ness for the important undertaking, for which it ap- 
pears God designs me. May he keep me holy and 
humble, and fit me for all he has in reserve for me 
in the womb of Providence, whether prosperous or 
adverse." 

In a subsequent letter, dated Hoxton, 25th March, 

1807, he says — "I am told S , of Kingston, is 

going to Harwich: hope you will find him a bles- 
sing to your family, and when he shall leave you, 
snay he review with as much pleasure the year 1807, 
as I do the year 1806. 1 trust I shall be con- 
stantly enabled to obey the kind advice which you 
gave me, and to lay every human attainment at the 
foot of the cross of Jesus; to dedicate all I have to 
him, of whom I would always esteem it my highest 
Jhonor to learn; to give up every thing that I may 
be called to sacrifice for the promoting of his glory, 
-and constantly to seek not my own things, but the 
things which are Jesus Christ's. 

In another, towards the close of the year 1807, he 
writes: — 

"J shall never forget the year I spent at Harwich; 
viewing one circumstance with another, I doubt not, 
but that it was as happy a twelvemonth as I shall 
ever live/ 9 

With such mutual feelings and expressions of af- 
fectionate regard, was Mr. Spencer's departure from 
Mr. Hordle's family attended. And this review of 
them will not be in vain, if it suggests to the young 
persons who may contemplate this imperfect portrait 
of one, whom living they so much admired, the vast 
importance of that impression, which the conduct of 



m 

their childhood or their youth may leave in the scenes; 
of their earliest association. For the most part, the 
character of the youth is the character of the man. If, 
on the circle of his earliest intercourse, an unfavora- 
ble impression of his disposition or his conduct is 
produced, there it is likely to remain; but alas! there 
it cannot be confined; it not unfrequently travels 
further than the person with whom it is connected, 
and the character is familiar where the countenance 
s is unknown. Who that has a respect, then, for him- 
self, but must be anxious that the impression, upow 
which so much depends, should be a happy one; and 
that the correcter habits of maturer age should not be 
counteracted in their favorable operation by the 
injurious fame, or unpleasant recollections of his 
early years. 

But we must follow the amiable object of our con- 
templation to a new scene. 

The following are copious extracts from the pa- 
pers which he submitted to the inspection of the com- 
mittee at Hoxton, on his former application for ad- 
mission into that institution: they were accompanied 
by a note to T. Wilson, Esq* 

Harwich, November 10, 1806. 
"honored sir, 

"With diffidence I present the following ac- 
count of my short experience, doctrinal sentiments, 
and motives for wishing to engage in the solemn 
and important work of the ministry, to your judg- 
ment and that of the committee. I am, with the 
sincerest gratitude for your favors, your humble 
servant^ 

Thomas Spencer."' 



88 

Harwich, Nov. 10, 1806. 
u lt was my happiness io be born of parents*, 
who maintained a regard for real piety and the fear 
of God; by thern I was, from my infancy, taught to 
read the scriptures, together with other books of a 
serious nature. I think I may safely say, that from 
my childhood I felt some mere than common im- 
pressions on my mind, with respect to the existence 
mid perfections of God, the evil and awful conse- 
quences of sin, and the advantages of being religious; 
but alas! these impressions, though so frequently felt, 
had not that abiding influence which they have had on 
the mrnds of others, but were like the ''morning cloud 
and the early dew which passeth away." As I grew 
rather older, I began to perceive some excellencies 
in religion, and to envy the happiness which I be- 
lieved serious people enjoyed. I knew something of 
the form of religion and the doctrines of it, from 
having been taught catechisms, and lessons calculat- 
ed to give youthful minds some ideas of the worship 
and conduct which God requires. Yet notwithstanding 
this, I gave too much (far too much) attention to the 
reading of novels and romances, the unhappy effect 
of which I lament to the present day. Many of 
these books I procured of lads, without the knowl- 
edge of my father. I felt a degree of pleasure in 
hearing lively, animated sermons; but I have reason 
to believe that this sprung from a desire to please my 
friends, and give myself an opportunity of imitating 
the preacher's voice and gesture. I also composed 
little pieces of poetry on sacred subjects, which I 
have since destroyed, because I then knew nothing 
of experimental, vital godliness, and of course was 
only mocking God in them; but I did not give up 



89 

making verses, All this while, I was totally igno- 
rant of that divine principle of grace in the heart 
without which, I am sensible, nothing we can do is 
acceptable to God. I knew nothing of the Holy 
Spirit's work, in convincing me of sin, and leading 
me to Jesus Christ as my Savior. I knew nothing 
of communion with God and with his Son. I hope 
some of the sermons of Mr. Ebenezer White, of 
Hertford, were not altogether useless to me, as well 
as some which I heard at Lady Huntingdon's chapel 
there; but from my d5hduct at that time, in various 
particulars, I cannot say that I had experienced what 
was meant by being born again. If you ask me 
from what time I date my conversion to God, I must 
say, that the exact time I cannot tell; but I think I 
may also say, that the Lord drew me gradually ta 
himself, and by degrees I-loved devotional exercises 
more and more; and 1 hope that I have, within 
these four years, experienced many refreshing sea- 
sons. How I wish to have my evidences brighten* 
ed, as it respects personal interest in the Lord Jesus 
Christ! I desire to cast my all upon him, and wait 
his will concerning me. However short my experi- 
ence in the divine life has been, can I not appeal to 
God, and say, k Lord thou knowest all things, thou ^ 
knowest that I love thee?" 



i4 I hope that my reasons for wishing to be a la- 
borer in the Lord's vineyard are sincere, and that 
they do not spring from any improper motives. If 
I should be called into it, I pray that I may be kept 
faithful, and never shun to declare the whole coun- 
sel of God. As I know something of the excellency 
of- the ways of wisdom, I am anxious that my fellow- 
*8 



go 

mortals may be partakers of the same grace, and 
that they may be brought to know God, and experi- 
ence the riches of divine love and mercy in Christ 
Jesus: and if Gud should so honor me, as to make 
une an instrument in his hand, of doing them real 
good, how happy should I be; how willing to en- 
dure hardships for Jesus' sake, As I trust God has 
given me a desire to act for his glory, and I know 
that he is glorified in the salvation of sinners, I am 
willing, if He should call me to the work, to engage 
in it. I am aware, that it is an arduous and a difficult 
work, yet from these principles, I would fain be a 
faithful minister of Jesus Christ. I would follow 
the leadings of Divine Providence. By the good 
hand of my God upon me, I am brought hitherto; 
and although some circumstances are against me, 
yet, 'where he appoints, I'll go and dwell. 5 I am 
not quite sixteen years old, yet young as I am, I have 
committed many sins, and experienced many mer- 
cies. Now unto Him that is able to keep me from 
falling, and to present me before the presence of his 
glory with exceeding joy, be glory and majesty, do- 
minion and power, forever and ever. Amen." 



I4 I believe in one God as the object of religious 
worship; that this God is from everlasting; and that 
in our Jehovah there are three dis'inct persons, viz. 
the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, and yet 
these three are one, that this is a mystery which we 
cannot explain, yet must believe, because it is de- 
clared in holy writ. That man was created holy, but 
fell from his original rectitude, and sunk himself and 
all his posterity into sin and wo. I believe also, that 
God from all eternity elected and chose his own pea- 



91 

pie unto eternal salvation; that men are in a lost state- 
and condition, and are spiritually dead; that they 
cannot be saved by any merit or works of their own, 
but only by the righteousness of Christ the Savior; 
that it is by the operation of God the Holy Spirit on 
the mind of man, that he becomes a sensible sinner; 
that his understanding must be enlightened before, 
he can choose God for his portion, or the paths oK 
religion as those in which he will walk* It was for 
this end and purpose that Christ Jesus came into the. 
world, viz. to save sinners by his own blood; and 1 
am persuaded that there is salvation in no other but. 
in him, and that 'he is.able to save to the very utter ~ 
most all that come unto God by him? I believe that 
he is the eternal God, '•the same yesterday, and% 
to-day, and for ever ; y that his grace is all sufficient,, 
his name, person, and all that concerns him, is pre- 
cious to them that believe; that those who exercise 
a living faith upon him, are justified from all their 
sins— at the same time I know, that believers are* 
called to be holy, and that it is by the consistency 
of their walk, that they are to evidence to those 
around them, that their profession is sincere, for, 
'without holiness no man shall see the Lord? As I 
am fully satisfied with respect to the divine origin of 
the scriptures, and the inspiration of the holy men 
who wrote them, so I believe, that they are the uner- 
ring standard by which to try our faith, and upon 
which we are to rest our opinions. I believe, that 
the people of God should form themselves into sep- 
arate churches, that they may enjoy the benefit ofdi- N 
vine ordinances, such as baptism and the Lord's Sup- 
per, together with the hearing of the word, &c. I 
believe, that the ordinance of baptism is to be ad- 
ministered to the children of believers, inasmuch as 



9r 

if is a sign of their admission into the visible church, 
and as it is emblematical of the giving of the Holy- 
Ghost, and that it is to be administered by sprinkling. 
I believe, that, notwithstanding all the Christian's 
enemies and dangers, he shall hold on his way, and 
grow stronger and stronger; and though the doctrine 
of final perseverance has been much abused, as well 
as its truth much questioned, it is an article of my 
faith, because God's word declares it. I believe in 
the approach of a judgment day— the eternal glory 
of believers, and the insufferable torments of the 
wicked in hell. I believe that God will have the 
whole glory of the salvation of those who are saved 
forever and ever; and that through all eternity they 
will ascribe dominion, power and glory to Him who 
loved them, and washed them in his own blood — 
at the same time, sinners will everlastingly blame 
themselves for their perdition and wo." 

On the 7th of January he appeared at Hox ton, be- 
fore the committee, and underwent the examination 
which he had so long and so anxiously anticipated 
• — with success and honor: was admitted a student^ 
and became immediately an inmate of the house. 
In a letter ta his friend, Mr. Hordle, dated Hoxton, , 
January 21st, 1807, he says 

"Two things make this day remarkable to me — 
one is, that it is my birth day, as I am now sixteen 
years old; the other is, that I have been a fortnight 
in this house. On Wednesday the 7th inst. that 
long dreaded day, I appeared before the eommittee. 
Your imagination may represent a Utile boy speak- 
ing before them. I felt a good deal of timidity, and 

waited the event with feelings of anxiety. " "I 

hope I can say, I feel the importance of that work 
for which it appears God in his providence has de* 



93 

signed me; but oh! I need larger degrees of grace to 
fill that station in such a manner, as that my own 
soul, and the souls of my fellow creatures, may be 
benefited thereby." — " I recall to my -mind occur- 
rences which transpired when I was at Harwich— 

may I have ail God's dealings sanctified unto me., 

1 want a deeper acquaintance with my own heart, 
and a more influential knowledge of God my Sa- 
vior." 

That on his entrance into the Academy at Hox- 
ion, Mr. Spencer was no novice in the knowledge and 
experience of divine things, is obvious from a peru- 
sal of the papers above cited. With a mind already 
the subject of considerable culture, and habits form- 
ed for the pursuits of science, he commenced his 
academical course under circumstances the most 
auspicious. The importance of such a previous 
preparation in candidates for the Christian ministry^ 
and the patronage of our dissenting colleges, is not, 
perhaps, sufficiently considered. It is to be regretted 
that so many enter without having previously obtained 
the lowest rudiments of general science, or even a 
tolerable acquaintance with their native tongue. The 
time allotted for a student's residence is, in the most 
liberal institutions but short, compared with the im- 
mense labor and magnitude of the object to be ob- 
tained. But much of this time, short as it is, must 
be expended in the inculcation of those first princi- 
ples of knowledge, which might be easily obtained 
elsewhere; and then, when the student is somewhat 
prepared for studies more suitable to the dignity of 
a college, he begins to preach. Thus an attention 
which ought to be undividedly devoted to the labors 
of the study and the exercises of the class, is partly 
lavished on preparations for the pulpit and public 



u 

services. Hence arose the plan, so judiciously 
adopted in certain cases, in connexion with the 
college of which Mr. Spencer was a member, and 
of the beneficial tendency of which he was so strik- 
ing an example, of sending the candidates who may 
be defective in these radical points, or two young for 
admission, to some pious and able minister for pre- 
paratory instruciion. But these instances, the off- 
spring of a peculiar necessity, shew the importance 
of an institution, founded expressly for preparatory 
studies, — that so a matter of such vast importance 
to the respectability of the ministry may not be left 
to the causual benevolence of liberal and enlightened 
individuals, or any happy combination of circumstan- 
ces in a solitary case.^ 

In the mean time, to remedy, as far as may be, by 
his own exertions, this serious defect, should be an 
object of conscientious regard to every young man* 
whose views are directed to the Christian ministry. 
By a diligent improvement of his time — by a careful 
employment of those smaller portions of it, which in 
too many cases are suffered imperceptibly to slide 
away — aided by the friendly direction and advice of 
some prudent and well-informed minister, which 
may without much difficulty be in every case obtain- 
ed — -any one of tolerable capacity and perseverance 
might afford his own mind a considerable degree of 
cultivation, and attain a portion of knowledge, ere 
his entrance into an academy, most favorable to the 
facility and success of his pursuits whilst there. 

These remarks more particularly apply to those 
young men, who, with views directed towards the 

* The reader who would be gratified with an outline of the course of study pur— 
sqgdia most of our dissentin {^colleges, may turoto the Appendix^ JW-/* V 



95 

ministry, are still engaged in secular employments, 
and to whom the privileges of an academy must be, 
in the first instance, regarded as a distant object. 

Little of importance can be expected to have 
transpired, in connexion with the early part of Mr* 
Spencers residence at Hoxton. It appears, howev- 
er, that here, as in the Poultry and at Harwich, his 
interesting appearance and amiable manners soon 
gained him the love and esteem of all. The tutors 
and the students alike felt an interest in this new y and 
youthful member of their literary society— and he 
applied himself with diligence to the improvement^ 
those advantages which he there enjoyed. He was 
now introduced to a wider range of observation and 
of study. But whilst a respect to the orders of the 
institution, and a desire to render himself, by useful 
acquirements, respectable in any circle in which it 
might be his future lot to move, induced him to ap- 
ply with becoming diligence to the various occupa- 
tions assigned him, he yet dwelt with peculiar attach- 
ment on such as were more immediately connected 
with the work of preaching. And with an ardent 
desire to be early and extensively employed in the 
ministry of the gospel, a desire strengthened and 
confirmed by time, it can be no matter of surprise, 
that to this darling object were directed all the hours 
of his leisure, and all the ardor of his soul. 

At the vacation in June he returned to his father's 
house at Hertford. During his stay there he preach- 
ed his first sermon in public. It was at the small 
village of Colliers End, six miles from Hertford. 
His auditory consisted of about thirty plain country 
people — and his text was 1 John i, 7, 'The blood of 
Jesus Christ, his Son, cleanseth us from all sin. 1 Sim- 
ple and unlettered, however, as his audience might 



§6 

be, they had sufficient penetration to discover the mi- 
common talents of their youthful preacher; which, 
together with the novelty and loveliness of his juve- 
nile appearance, excited in that little village an as- 
tonishment and admiration, which have since circu- 
lated through all the districts of the great metropo- 
lis, and almost every town in Great Britain. How 
beautiful is the progression which marks ail the dis- 
pensations of nature, providence, and grace. From 
the smallest springs the mightiest rivers rise 3 to pro- 
mote the fruitfulness or waft the commerce of the 
world. From the grain of mustard seed, the king- 
dom of heaven gradually rises and expands, till it be- 
comes a great tree, beneath whose shade all the na- 
tions of the earth repose; and in the history of indi- 
viduals, — -from the day of small things, has not uh- 
frequently arisen a career, whose brilliancy has daz- 
zled and surprised the world; and from the remark- 
able concurrence of circumstances, events the most 
important to the interests of the individual, and the 
happiness of mankind, have sprung. It is for the 
most part denied to men, who move in a public and 
extended circle, to witness those early displays of 
genius, and that gradual developcment of talents, af- 
terwards so eminent for their usefulness or splendor, 
upon which the eye of a philosopher would love to 
dwell. This is usually the privilege of a few ob- 
scure individuals in some retired spot. The new 
fledged bird first tries its pinions in its own seques- 
tered bower ere it soars above its native glen, and 
courts the admiration of man by the boldness of its 
flight, or the sweetness of its song. And yet there 
is such a peculiar interest connected with the early 
efforts of a mighty mind, and the first stages of art 
£mment career, that we gather with diligence all that 



■can be gleaned respecting theni, and listen with tie* 
light to the narration of those who were spectators. 
But few perhaps who have heard of Spencer, but 
would gladly be transported to the peaceful village of 
Collier's End, and mingle with the auditors under 
his first sermon there. And it requires no uncom- 
mon acquaintance with the principles of our nature, 
imd the doctrine of association in the human mind, 
to predict, that the villages of Halfway % Street, and 
Lewisham, in Kent, will derive some celebrity in the 
religious world from having been the scenes of min- 
isterial labor, when a youth, to ar preacher, who for 
these twelve years past has held the delighted audi- 
tories of the metropolis the walling captives of his el- 
oquence.* And surely such a principle as this> 
whilst in its gratification it yields an undescribable 
pleasure, may be cultivated to no small advantage. 
It banishes from the mind that despair of reaching 
it t which a contemplation of exalted eminence might 
inspire, by an assurance, that the object at which he 
aims is not unattainable, since its present possessor 
once occupied the same level with himself, and was. 
attended by circumstances as unfavorable to his ele«< 
vationas those which at present may encompass him. 
Our amiable young preacher's first sermon excited 
a strong desire in his hearers for a repetition of his 
labors; and his fame, rapidly circulating, produced 
an invitation also, from another quarter, for the fol- 

* The name of Doctor Collyer is too well known to derive any additional ce* 
lebrity from being copied on a page my hand has written. Andperhaps I may 
be censured for indulging in an allusion here which bears at least the ap* 
pearance of flattery. Far be it from me to cherish such a principle. The 
v work in which 1 am engaged is sacred to friendship and to the memory of de- 
parted worth; and is it at ail surprising, that whilst endeavoring to preserve 
the record of a friend removed by death, my memory should sometimes re- 
cur to the many excellencies which have so long eader.red to me a friend from 
whom I am removed by distance? 

9 



9$ 

lowing Sabbath. To these solicitations, ive may 
suppose without much reluctance, he complied; and 
lie preached again on the morning of July 12th, at a 
village called Broughin. His text on this occasion 
was Col. iii, 3, 'Ye are dead, and your life is hid with 
Christ in God.' In the afternoon and evening of the 
same day, he preached again at Collier's End. In 
the afternoon from Acts xix, 2, 'Have ye received the 
Holy Ghost?' In the evening from Phil, iii, 18, 
4 They are the enemies of the cross of Christ.* The 
attendance at Collier's End was, on this second Sab- 
bath, so much increased, that the room would scarce- 
ly contain the people who were desirous of hearing, 
and every one seemed still more deeply affected by 
the impressive manner, the solemn doctrines, and the 
surprising powers of this young divine. On the fol- 
lowing Thursday he preached again at a place called 
Brickenden, from John iv, 29, 'Come see a man, 
"which told me all things that ever 1 did; is not this the 
Christ?' On Sunday, July 19th, he again resumed 
his labors at Collier's End, and preached in the after- 
noon from 2 Chron. xxxiii, 12, 13, 'And when he 
was in affliction he besought the Lord his God, and 
humbled himself greatly before the God of his fathers, 
and prayed unto him, and he was entreated of him, 
and heard his supplication, and brought him again t& 
Jerusalem, and to his kingdom. Then Manasseh knew 
that the Lord he was God.' In the evening the mul- 
titude that assembled was so great, that to gratify 
them all, he was under the necessity of preaching out 
of doors, which he did with great animation and 
effect, from Rom. xiv, 12, 4 So then every one of us 
shall give account of himself to God.' It appears 
from the report of one who was present at the deliv- 
ery of this sermon, that it was remarkably impres- 



w 

give. Although surrounded by so great a crowd, &£• 
seemed quite undaunted, and expressed himself with 
an ease and an energy which produced the most se- 
rious impressions upon many, and excited the aston- 
ment of all. To see the old and grey headed melted 
into tears beneath the simple touches and fervent ap- 
peals of a youth, but little more than sixteen years 
of age, proclaiming with the boldness and propriety 
of an experienced veteran the glorious gospel of the 
blessed God, must have been truly interesting. And 
it is also gratifying to know, that by the earliest la- 
bors of this excellent youth, happy and saving effects* 
were produced, which remain to this day. On the 
evening of Thursday, July 23d, he preached at Bunt- 
ingford, a town about ten miles from Hertford, from 
John x, 9, 'By me, if any man enter 'in , he shall be 
saved, and shall go in and out, and find pasture? On 
Sunday, July 26th, he preached again afternoon and 
evening, at Colliers End. In the afternoon from 
John vi, 44, 'No man can dome to me except the 
Father which sent me draw him: and I will raise him 
up at the last day? In the evening from 2 Tin), ii, 
19, ' Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure 
having this seal, the Lord knoweth them that are his, 
and let every one that nameththe name of Christ de- 
part from iniquity? On the Wednesday evening fol- 
lowing he preached at Hormead, from Psalm iv, 6, 
* There be many that say, who will shew us any good? 
Lord lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon us? 
And on the Thursday evening again at Brichendtn. 
At Hormead his congregation amounted to six or 
seven hundred persons, and the place where they 
were assembled was a barn.* Indeed by this time 

* The eircumstance of Mr. Spencer's preaching in a barn, and in the open- 
air, may perhaps excite unpleasant feelings in the breasts of some, who, nay- 



108 

his fame had so widely circulated, that wherever ht 
preached numbers flocked from all parts to hear and 
see this wonderful youth; and he might have preach- 
ed every day in the week, had he been so inclined, 
so numerous were the invitations that crowded upon 
him. However, his vacation drew towards a close; 
and his return to Hoxton suspended for awhile these 
public exercises. He preached on the evening of 
Sunday, Aug. 2d, at Sot/don; and we hear no more 
of his preaching till December. It certainly admits 
of doubt whether these early exercises in public 
preaching are beneficial or injurious. That they 
are injurious, may be argued from the circumstance, 
that they tend to elate and dissipate the mind — to 
inspire it with conceited notions of its own superior 
powers — too soon, alas! to familiarize the ear to the 
insinuating sounds of flattery, and investing the 
youth with high conceptions of his present qualifica- 
tions, to annihilate those humiliating views of his 
own ignorance and imperfection, — and that ardent 
panting after knowledge in which lies the great 
source of respectability and usefulness in after life. 
Not to notice those practical errors into which the 
ignorance and incaution natural to youth may lead 
him, when engaged in directing men in affairs of infi- 

ing occasionally heard him with delight, may honor these pages with a perusal. 
They may feel regret, perhaps, that he should ever have been so irregular, or 
have ever trodden in the steps of men, who are universally condemned as 
enthusiasts and fanatics. It is necessary, therefore, in order to vindicate him, 
and all who have been guilty of a similar offence against the laws of ecclesiasti- 
cal decorum, from the charge of enthusiasm and fanaticism, to produce some 
passages of scripture, by which their conduct in this respect, is fully justified: 
'Hoivbeit, the jtfost High divelleth not in temples made with hands. 9 — Acts vii, 
" e Where (whether in afield, a barn, or a temple, J two or three are gath~ 



iiike 
the 

open air, upon a mount. And the wilderness of Judea was the scene of his 
ministry , w^q was honored to be the forerunner of the Messiah,* 



101 

nite and eternal moment. If the aged evangelist, 
the venerable pastor, is heard so frequently to deplore 
his imperfection and lament the possibility of error in 
his public instructions — a young man may well pro- 
ceed in his early labors with caution, and had need 
to be possessed of no common discretion and- knowl- 
edge, to counteract the suspicions necessarily excit- 
ed, in the breasts of the thoughtful, by his youth. 

But perhaps, on the other hand, there are pecu- 
liar advantages connected with an early entrance on 
the work of preaching. The novelty of the circum- 
stance excites attention, and many are converted, 
who, but for the juvenility of the preacher, had nev- 
er heard the gospel from his lips; and this is doubt- 
less amongst the many means which an Infinite Wis- 
dom has selected, for accomplishing, in the conver- 
sion of sinners, the purposes of an infinite love, Be- 
sides that on the preacher's own mind, his early em- 
ployment in ministerial labor may have a most hap- 
py influence. By an early initiation into the difficulties 
and trials of the work, he may attain an ease and a 
skill in its execution, which is perhaps but seldom 
reached by the man who has commenced much lat- 
er in the day. In youth the mind is all activity, and 
difficulties which are met with then are far more ea- 
sily surmounted thin, when they are presented to the 
opposition of maturer age. But after all, much de- 
pends upon the peculiar circumstances of the indi- 
vidual case. Many a man is better prepared for the 
work of the ministry at sixteen than others are at for- 
ty; and whilst the popularity and flattery which usu- 
ally attend the course of youthful preachers would 
be the ruin of some, there are others indued with a 
prudence and a piety sufficient to resist their influence.. 
And be it remembered, that the time allotted to eve*- 
#9- 



102 

ry man for labor is at best but shorty and that fdfr 
'many of our ministers— alas! that these should be* 
for the most part the most eminent and useful!— is 
prepared an early grave! To be squandering away 
the precious time which ought to be devoted to the 
salvation of immortal souls, in the acquisition of 
profound and extensive erudition; to be immured 
for years in the walls of a study, and confined to the 
precincts of a college, impairing the physical strength 
by midnight application, and smothering the flames 
of holy zeal amid the ices of metaphysics and the 
lumber of heathenish philosophy, whilst thousands 
of immortal souls are perishing, to whose eternal 
interest those years might be successfully devoted— 
is certainly a conduct highly culpable, and not in the 
spirit of Him who said — 'work whilst it is day, for 
the night cometh, when no man can xvorkP Far be it 
from the writer of this volume in any way to under- 
value or decry that knowledge, which, in a minister 
of the gospel, the circumstances of the present times 
render so essential. — These remarks only apply to 
those cases in which years are expended in adding 
to a stock already more than sufficient for present 
purposes, without beginning to apply to any practi- 
cal use that which is so largely possessed; and may 
affect such institutions as, having for their object the 
preparation of young men for the work of the minis- 
try, suller the zeal for God and the love of souls, 
which led them to its patronage, at least to lose a lit- 
tle of its lire by years of dry scholastic disquisition, 
ere they are suffered to go forth into the world and 
expend them on their proper object— -the conversion 
of their dying fellow men. 

With respect to Mr. Spencer, the world will 
judge whether he began to preach too soon or not. 



10S 

I believe tliat Liverpool, by far the most competent 
to judge in this esse, will without hesitation, decide 
in the negative. Perhaps there are, who may be 
disposed to say, "this was an exception. 7 '— Granted; 
but in such exceptions, let a similar liberty be allow- 
ed. Where extraordinary gifts, attended by extra- 
ordinary grace, so early develope themselves, allow 
them a proportionably early exercise, nor rob the 
church of God of an useful minister, who, ere the 
period a cautious policy has fixed for the commence- 
ment of his labor is arrived— may be summoned to 
his rest. 

On his return to Hoxton we find Mr. Spencer 
preaching occasionally in the work- houses — an ad- 
mirable school for young divines. Surely this is no 
inconsiderable circumstance in which our dissent- 
ing colleges are superior as schools of practical di- 
vinity, to those of the establishment. There the stu- 
dent emerges at once from the retirement of private 
life to all the publicity of the sacred office; which 
sudden transition to a delicate mind must often be 
attended with considerable pain, and may lead, in the 
first few instances, to a confusion and embarrass* 
ment most distressing to himself, and most unfriend- 
ly to his prospects of future respectability and use- 
fulness. On the other hand, with us the student 
gradually, almost imperceptibly, glides into the min- 
istry, and by continued, but slow enlargement, of 
the sphere in which he is allowed to move, he rises 
from a few poor people in a work-house, to address 
the most respectable auditories. 

On his return to his father's house, for the Christ- 
mas vacation, Mr. Spencer preached for the first 
time at Hertford, it did not happen to him, as is 
often the case, that he had no honor in his own co&n- 



104 

try. Numbers pressed, urged no doubt, in the first 
instance, by curiosity, to hear him; and those who 
are accustomed to mark the influence of similar cir- 
cumstances upon a susceptible mind, will enter a 
little into his emotions, when rising to address, upon 
the most solemn of all subjects, a vast multitude of 
his fellow-townsmen, amongst whom he recognised 
many of his juvenile companions — the several mem- 
bers of his own family — and, not the least interesting 
object of the groupe, the venerable matron who had 
early instructed him in the principles of his mother 
tongue, and whose lot it was to observe the first faint 
dawnings of a talent, then fast hastening to its fullest 
exercise and strength. But long after the influence of 
novelty may be supposed to have subsided, he con- 
tinued to excite the admiration of his native town* 
His first sermon at Hertford was preached on the 
evening of Sunday, December 20th, at the Rev. Mr^ 
Maslin's chapel, from Eph. v, 11, And have no fel- 
lowship with the unfruitful works of darkness? He 
preached again on the Wednesday evening following, 
and on the evening of Christmas clay, on which oc- 
casion his text was Mich, v, 2, But thou, Bethlehem 
Ephratah, though thou be little among the thousands 
of Judah, yet out of thee shall he come forth unto 
me that is to be Ruler in Israel, whose goings forth 
have been cf old, from everlasting? 

The passages of scripture selected by Mr. Spencer, 
as the subjects of his earliest discourses, afford ano- 
ther demonstration, in addition to many others, of 
the general bias of his mind. They are such as one 
may well imagine a preacher panting for the salva- 
tion of his fellow men, would select for the commence- 
ment of his public labors. The topics which they 
suggest are of ail ethers the most solemn, as they 



K)5 

are the most simple and the most important in the 
whole range of inspired truth, and hence they were 
best adapted to the preacher's age, and the unlettered 
character of his auditors. It seems, that in his ear- 
liest sermons there was nothing of that parade and 
glare — nothing of that excessive fondness of figures 
and love of imagery, which too often mark the first 
compositions of youthful preachers—preachers who, 
in a more advanced state of their ministry, have not 
been less respectable or useful than he. 

Whether this is to be considered as an excellence 
or defect, it is probable, with some, may be a matter 
of debate. Dr. Blair, (or rather Quintilian, from 
whom he copies,*) in his remarks on the early com- 
positions of public speakers, urges in fuvor of that 
exuberance of imagination and excess of ornament, — ■ 
that time and experience will prune all this away, 
and in proportion as the fire of youth declines, the 
glare of the composition will sink into the settled 
lustre of maturer age. And hence he argues, for an 
excessive indulgence of the imagination at this pe- 
riod; since by the time the powers are called into 
full and steady exercise, they will have undergone a, 
certain train of discipline, and have found their 
proper limits; but if the composition has all the ju* 
dicious sobriety of that maturer age, amid the vig- 
or and vivacity of youth, what is it likely to be in the 
more advanced stages of its exercise, but cold, in- 
sipid, and dull. 

But surely all depends upon the nature of the sub- 
ject, and the source whence the public orator is to 
draw the energy which must give animation to his 

* Quintilian again quotes from Cicero, the great master of eloquence;, 
whose remarks on this subject are worthy his immortal pen. — Vid, Quint> 
Just. Orat. lib. 11. ch. 4. et Cicero de.Orat. Ub. 11. ch,21. 



100 

discourses. The fire of genius, the glow of imagi- 
nation, must be the enkindling torches in the senate — 
at the bar; but though not altogether useless in the 
pulpit, yet they are not the lawful sources of anima- 
tion there. It is not the blaze of genius, or the 
glow of imagination; but the sacred flame of fervent 
piety, — the holy kindlings of a mind moved by 
principles derived from heaven, and the generous ef- 
forts of a soul impelled by an intense desire for the 
salvation of a dying world, that must impart life 
and energy to the correct, but glowing statements, — 
the warm and impassioned appeals of the ambassa- 
dor for Christ. Other sources of animation may 
be exhausted by exercise, and dried up by time; 
but this can never fail. It will remain the same 
when the head of the venerable prophet is covered 
with hoary hairs, and the body is sunk in the decrep- 
itude of age. — Nay, as in the c?se of the apostle 
Paul, it will rise into brighter radiance as he advan- 
ces to the termination of his course, — a more ardent 
panting for the salvation of mankind will mark his 
dying hours, than that which attended his entrance 
on his labors; and with David, the last prayer his 
spirit breathes will be for the universal diffusion of 
that gospel, which it has been the business and 
the honor of his life to preach — 'Blessed be the Lord 
God, the God of Israel, who only doth wondrous 
things* And blessed be his glorious name fjrever; 
and let the whole earth be filled with his glory. Amen 
and Amen. y 

We now arrive at a period in Mr, Spencer's his- 
tory, peculiarly critical and important. — During the 
vacation of Christmas, 1807, the Rev. Mr. Leifchifd, 
of Kensington^, was supplying the pulpit at Hoxton 
chapel, Que Sabbath afternoon, in January, Mr* 



lt)7 

Spencer being then returned to the academy From 
Hertford, Mr. L. expressed a wish that he should 
assist him, in the public service, by reading the 
scriptures and engaging in prayer. The request 
was granted, and an extract of a letter obligingly ad- 
dressed by that gentlemen to me, will convey a live- 
ly picture of the deep impression which his appear- 
ance and manner produced upon the large congrega- 
tion before whom he stood. 

45 But when he appeared in the pulpit — after 

the first emotions of surprise were over, and after the 
mistakes of some, who supposed that he was a little 
boy belonging to the gallery, who, from ignorance 
or thoughtlessness, had gone up the pulpit stairs, 
instead of those leading to his seat, had been correct- 
ed, so sweetly did he read the chapter,* so earnestly, 
so scripturally, so experimentally, did he engage in 
prayer, that for the whole six Sabbaths afterwards 
he became the chief magnet of attraction to the 
place. The people now insisted upon it he should 
preach. I need not name his subsequent success." 

The entreaties of the people having prevailed, 
Mr. Spencer, though contrary to the standing order 
of the institution, was allowed to preach. It was a 
delicate situation. Yet it was one to which he had 
long and anxiously aspired. Indeed, so strong was 
his desire for the public engagements of the minis- 
try, that the fear of being long denied the gratifica- 
tion of his wishes, on account of his youth, actually 
preyed upon his spirits so severely as even to affect 
his health. But it was not from the love of fame or 

* On the evening x>f the following Sunday, Mr. L. addressed young people 
when Mr. Spencer again conducted the devotional part of the service. The 
^hapter which he then read was Ecclesiastes xii. A person since received 
into the church at Hoxton, dated her first serious impressions from the rcad= 
ing of that chapter, and the sderaa prayer then ©ffered u|y 



1(X8 

popular applause that he cherished this desire, but 
from the hope of being early and extensively use- 
ful; — as if urged by a presentiment of his impending 
fate — immediately to commence those honorable la- 
bors from which he was to be called so soon.— When 
he appeared in the pulpit at Hoxton, a youth just 
seventeen years of age, he betrayed none of that dis- 
tressing anxiety which marks the candidate for pub- 
lic approbation; but stood with all the dignified com- 
posure, and spoke with all the unembarrassed ener- 
gy of an ambassador for Christ. His text was, 
Psalm xxxii, 6, k For this shall every one that is godly 
pray unto thee in a time when thou mayest be found; 
surely in the floods of great waters they shall not come 
nigh unto thee? At the close of his discourse the 
sentiments which dwelt upon the lips and counte- 
nances of his auditors were those of pleasure, admi- 
ration, and surprise. His excessive youth,- — the 
simplicity of his appearance — the modest dignity of 
his manner — the sweetness of his voice— the weight 
and importance of his doctrine— and the force — the 
affection— and the fervor with which he directed it, 
to the hearts and consciences of those who heard 
him — charmed and delighted, whilst they edified. 
And retiring from the sanctuary to the social circle, 
they dwelt alternately on the loveliness of the preach- 
er, and the importance of the truths which they had 
heard from his lips. 

Upon this scene the Christian student may, with 
advantage, pause and meditate. Looking forward, 
perhaps with considerable apprehension, to the pe- 
riod of his public entrance on the labors of the min- 
istry, he may be anxious to ascertain what was the 
secret spring — the hidden source, of that calm com- 
posure and unfettered boldness, which characterised 



1Q9 

the earliest addresses of this interesting youth. To 
such then I can confidently say, — it was not the 
proud consciousness of superior powers, — of erudi- 
tion — of genius, or of eloquence; but it was the in- 
fluence of a heart warmed with the love of Christ, big 
with the vast moment of his solemn theme, and 
panting with an ardor which no circumstances of 
difficulty could suppress, for the salvation of sinners. 
Such an influence as this will make the coward bold, 
and convert the most timid and feeble into valiant 
and successful champions of the cross. Before an 
influence like this, the love of fame, — the glare of 
popularity, the opinions and the plaudits of mankind 
retire. No consideration remains but that of the 
worth of immortal souls, and th^lmportance of their 
salvation. This, under^ the agency of the eternal 
Spirit, whose assistance every faithful minister may 
with confidence expect, will supply a closeness of 
appeal to arrest the attention — furnish topics of dis- 
course to inform the judgment, and animated expos- 
tulations to warm the heart. When the blaze of 
genius and of oratory is extinguished, this will con- 
tinue with a steady flame. And whilst many, his 
acknowledged superiors in talent and in literature, 
are left behind, the preacher in whose breast it glows 
will be conducted to scenes of extensive usefulness, 
and the enjoyment of an honorable renown. 

Mr. Spencer now became the topic of general dis- 
course, — the subject of universal inquiry. His name 
spread far and wide. His danger became daily more 
and more imminent, Letters pressed upon him, 
filled with flattery — invitations arrived at the acade- 
my from all parts, for his services; and he appeared, 
as a friend who witnessed his sudden and extraordi- 
10 



110 

nary elevation, observed, like one standing on the 
brow of a precipice, amid the most violent gusts # of 
wind. Disapprobation cannot be expressed in terms 
too strong of the conduct which is usually adopted 
by the religious public towards their favorite, and 
especially their youthful preachers. And the censure 
which may, in a lamentable degree admit of universal 
application, falls with pre-eminent propriety on the 
professors of religion in the metropolis and its 
neighborhood. There, indeed, by the constant ac- 
cession of fresh objects, to the sphere in which they 
move, such a love of novelty — such a fondness of 
variety — such a taste for something perpetually orig- 
inal — is excited and constantly fed — that whatever is 
uniform and solid, 4n the ministry of their establish- 
ed and experienced pastors, while it secures the atten- 
tion and regard of the judicious and discerning, is 
too often neglected as stafe and insipid by the more 
Iwtltf and enbglitcned class of hearers. A new name 
is announced on the cover of a Magazine, or from 
the pulpit of some celebrated chapel, and thither the 
unstable multitude direct their steps. They sit in 
solemn judgment on the preacher's manner — his ap- 
pearance — his action, and his voice; for amongst too 
many, alas! it is to be lamented, that the solemn 
truths which he delivers are but secondary objects of 
regard. If there should be nothing striking in his 
manner — nothing melodious in his voice, — nothing 
singular in his appearance- — nothing peculiar in his 
system — and nothing particularly favorable in the 
circumstances of his introduction to the pulpits of 
the metropolis, there he may continue his appointed 
perioclj and when it has expired, return to the peace- 



in 

ftil village of the quiet town, where it is his lot to 
labor — 

"The world forgetting — by the world forgot. 5 ' 

On the other hand, with this class of hearers the 
preacher who secures their admiration instantly be- 
comes their idol. As if irresistibly impelled to ex- 
tremes, they lavish on him the warmest eulogies and 
adulation, often too palpable to be endured. Forget - 
ting that he is a man of like passions with themselves, 
they heap their honors on his head as though lie 
could remain insensible to the plaudits they bestow, 
and perfectly superior to the influence of every prin- 
ciple of pride. The following lines of the inim- 
itable Covvper too well express the sentiments which 
in these remarks must suggest themselves to every 
thinking mind, not to obtain insertion here:— 

C4 Popular Applause! what heart of man 

Is proof against thy sweet seducing charms? 

The wisest and the best feei urgent need 

Of all their caution in thy gentlest gales; 

But swell'd into a gusl — who then, alas! 

With all his canvass spread and inexpert, 

And therefore heedless, can withstand thy power* 

Praise from the rivell'd lips of worthless bald 

Decrepitude, and in the looks of lean 

And crjving Poverty, and in the bow 

Respectful of the smutch'd artificer, 

Is oft too welcome, and may much disturb 

The bias of the purpose. How much more 

Pour'd forth by beauty splendid and polite, 

In language soft as Adoration breathes? 

Ah spare your Idol! think him human still. 

Charms he may have, but he has frailties too. 

Bote not too much, nor spoil what ye admire,* 3 



112 

But the preaching of Mr. Spencer, even in his 
earliest discourses, was not of that light and mere- 
tricious kind which may secure the temporary* ad- 
miration of the wandering and unsettled. It pos- 
sessed much of the solid — the experimental, and ju- 
dicious; and this secured him the attention and es- 
teem of those, whose approbation any man would 
esteem it an honor to possess. But this only tend- 
ed to heighten his danger. God, however, gave 
him grace equal to fiis day. His letters during his 
popularity in London breathe the same spirit of hu- 
mility as that which marked his earlier correspon- 
dence; and a piety seldom surpassed in fervor and 
sincerity tended to preserve him steady in the midst 
of that tempestuous sea, upon whose billows, though 
young and inexperienced, it was his lot to ride. 

Numerous 2nd pressing however as were the in- 
vitations from different parts of the metropolis and 

its neighborhood, yet Mr. Spencer did not preach 
m~, ;~ t , : 1. *_,_ or , ...1 !^u 

-^v*,.* *!• London (except in tne wunv-n^,.»ov,o, wuiuu 
the students regularly supplied, and also once in a 
small chapel in Hackney Road) until September. 
In the meanwhile his talent for preaching had ample 
exercise in various parts of the country, which dur- 
ing this period he was allowed to visit. So that, 

* 1 believe that general experience will justify the observation, that however 
attendant circumstances may contribute, in the first instance, to render an 
individual popular, nothing but sterling worth can secure its perpetuity; and 
whenever the preaching of a popular minister has endured, without injury to 
his reputation, the ordeal of a ten or twenty years trial, he may safely be re- 
garded as possessing an excellence superior to any thing his manner could ex- 
t.bit. But 1 feel tne delicacy of the topic I have thus ventured to introduce, 
and gladly refer to illustrations of the same subject by more experienced and 
far abler hands. — See Fuller's life of Pierce, and Jay's Life of Corneliun 
Winter. Books in which examples, the one of more public, the other of more 
retired, but not less transcendent excellence, 6eem to live before us for our 
instruction. To every student for the Christian ministry they must prove aa 
invaluaole treasure. 



from January 7th to September 8th he preached no' 
less than sixty times. The following are the princi- 
pal places which were then favored with his labors: — -■ 
Roydon, Godmanchester, Ripton, Buntingford, Hert- 
ford % Dorking, Rum ford, Harlow, Royston, Hadham* 
Hays, Chigwcll, and Mill- Hill. At all these places 
the attention he excited was considerable, and the 
impression he left remains with the people to this 
day.* 

Mr. Spencer's second sermon at Hoxton chapel 
was delivered on the evening of Thursday, Septem- 
ber 8th. It confirmed the opinion of his excellence 
produced by the first. His text was, Acts x, 36> 
'He is Lord of all.' 

The general sentiment of approbation and delight 
at first excited by his youthful appearance and his 
extraordinary pulpit talents, was now deepened and 
established, and he began to preach pretty exten- 
sively in the pulpits of the metropolis and its neigh- 
borhood. Oh Sunday, September I8:h, we find 
him in the pulpit at Holywell Mount chapel, and on 
the Sunday following in that at Kennington chapel; 
and -on the afternoon of Sunday, December 13th, he 
supplied the chapel in Old Gravel Lane, VVapping.j* 
During the autumn of this year he also visited sev- 
eral parts of the country immediately surrounding 
London; and he preached, among other places, at 
Upminstcr, Upsom, Guildford^ Roydon, and High 
Wycombe. 

With respect to the wisdom and propriety of per* 
rnitting such extensive public labors, in one so 

•" For specimens of his early pulpit compositions, see Appendix, No. II. 

t The church assembling in Old Gravel Lane formerly sat under the ministry 
•f the late Ilev. Noah Hill, but now enjoy the pastoral care, of the Itev, Mr. 
Hooper, one of the tutors in the college at Hoxton. 

10* 



114 

young, and at so early a stage of his academical 
course, there will be perhaps a diversity of opin- 
ion. On the general question, in which this is but 
an individual case, there can be but one sentiment. 
Nothing tends more to dissipate the mind, than much 
travelling and much society; and particularly inju- 
rious to the fixed and laborious habits of a student's 
life is that kind of intercourse with society, which 
the young minister, in his occasional visits, usually 
obtains. The esteem in which, for the most part 
the name of a minister is held, in the circles which 
he enters, secures him an attention and an ease by 
far too flattering not to be injurious; whilst the re- 
fined and fascinating manners of some societies but 
ill prepare the mind for the imperatively severe char- 
acters of academic life. But perhaps a far more se- 
rious object of regard is the time which is thus ne- 
cessarily and irretrievably lost to the great and avow- 
ed object of his pursuit. — It is impossible to take a 
revirw of the past year of Mr. Spencer's life, and 
number up the several places at which he has 
preached — at some of them two or three times, 
whilst others he visited more than once, calculating 
their respective distances from Hoxton, and the 
time necessarily occupied in travelling, together with 
the many hours, perhaps days, which must have been 
consumed in preparing the discourses there deliver- 
ed—without being struck with a conviction, of the 
immense loss which in a literary point of view, he 
must have sustained; and the pursuit of literature 
is, after all, the professed object of our dissenting 
colleges. Considering too, that this was but Mr. 
Sjpencer's second year of study, and connecting this 
with the shortness of the term he had to stay, and 
his exceeding youth, the impression is yet deepen- 



115 

ed. But Mr. Spencer's was an extraordinary case, 
His fort was the composition and delivery of ser- 
mons. He was at home and happy only in this sa* 
cred work. He seemed but to live for this object. 
Other objects he might contemplate, with respect 
and even esteem, excited by an impression of their 
utility and excellence— on this his heart perpetually 
dwelt with a fervent and impassioned love. It was 
evidently for this God had especially designed him; 
and for the work he had to accomplish, and the ear- 
ly account he had to render,- — all perhaps are now 
convinced that he was not suffered to begin too soorn 
For one whose day of usefulness has proved so 
short, and over whom the night of death so early 
and so suddenly has shed its gloom, we cannot but 
rejoice that the first dawn was devoted to his honora- 
ble labor, and not even a solitary hour neglected, 
from the commencement to the termination of his 
career.^ 

Mr. Spencer preached again at Hoxton chapel on 
Christmas day, morning and evening; and also de- 
livered an address, on the following evening, at the 
prayer meeting. A day or two after he left Lon- 
don for Brighton, and preached his first sermon in 
that celebrated Seat of gaiety and fashion on the 
evening of Thursday, December 29th, at the Count- 
ess of Huntingdon's chapel, fromZech. vi, 12. 'Be- 
hold the man whose name is the branch, and he shall 
build the temple of the Lord.'* On Sunday, 1st 
January 1809, he preached in the afternoon at the 

* A contemplation of the facts connected with the interesting, but melan- 
choly history of Spencer, may however tend to shew, that, whilst much 
preaching and much travelling are to be deprecated as evils, especially in the 
earlier stages of a student's 1 ce arse, yet that no specific rules can be estab- 
lished in this case for universal and invariable application. On the proprie- 
ty of the thing, in every case of students under their care, the tutors are 
the best quailed to decide. 



lie 

3fiev. Mr. Styles' chapel, and again in the evening; 
at the Countess'. 

I am the more particular in marking the date of 
his first visit to Brighton, as it commences a new 
year, and forms also a most important epoch in his 
history. The interesting and endeared connexions 
which he afterwards formed there, tend to throw a 
new and brilliant light upon his character; whilst 
they shed a softer air of melancholy around the cir- 
cumstances of his eariy and lamented fate!* 

Alas! of what moment to the Christian minister 
is the formation of connexions such as these. Del- 
icate as the subject may be, and ill qualified as I feel 
I am to enter fully into its discussion, I yet cannot 
suffer it to pass without some observations on its 

vast importance By imprudence here, how many 

have destroyed, if not their character, yet to an 
alarming extent their usefulness and comfort. Upon 
the partner which a minister selects much of his 
happiness depends. He must be indeed a child of 
sorrow, who '.with a heartbroken by disappointment, 
and a brow clouded by care — such cares and disap- 
pointments as too frequently impart a character of 
gloom to many a pious pastor's life^— finds no relief 
in his domestic circle, and seeks in vain for the 
soothing influence of sympathy in the individual 
whom he has chosen to be a 'help meet for him? 

The important subject thus reluctantly though 
unavoidably introduced, distributes itself into many 
branches, each interesting in- its kind, on each o£ 
which age and experience might with considerable 
propriety descant; and however unwilling I might 

* Those who knew Spencer, will' enter fully into the meaning of this para- 
graph. I owe it however to those who knew him not to say, that tenderness 
to feelings I should dread to wound, compels me to draw a teil over 0$e g£ 
the most interesting scenes of his life. 



117 

be to enter more largely into the discussitm, yet did 
I think myself sufficiently possessed of either, I 
would certainly reprobate in the severest terms that 
rash and thoughtless haste* which too often marks 
the decision of students and youthfyl ministers in 
this respect, and which too frequently leads to set- 
tled distress,— -final ruin, — or shameful infidelity! 
To the honor of Spencer be it recorded, that his 
choice iii the first instance displayed his wisdom: 
his uniform attachment until death, — his constancy! 

Mr, Spencer preached again at the Countess of 
Huntingdon's chapel at Brighton on Thursday even- 
ing, January 5th, and left that place on the following 
day. On the ensuing Sunday he preached at Hollo- 
way, morning and afternoon; and on the evening of 
Tuesday the 10th, addressed an immense congrega- 
tion from the pulpit of that truly excellent man, the 
Rev. Rowland Hill, at Surry chapel. The subject of his 
discourse was Deut, xxxiii, 3, Yea he loved the pea- 

„», y i»». . ...w oM/c-fu «•• w ~,» %>i*><f rutrul, lift*.* t**<uij «>i*k ^JWlv 

at thy feet) every one shall receive of thy wordsP 

Between this date and the following midsummer, 
his labors appear to have been, in point both of num- 
ber and sutcess, truly astonishing. He now preach- 
ed much in and about London, and wherever his 
name was announced, the crowd that flocked to his 
ministry, proved how extensive and deep the im- 
pression was which it had excited. Besides occu- 
pying many of the most respectable pulpits- in the 
metropolis, during this period, he visited and preach- 
ed in the following places, Guildford, Epsom, Worth- 
ing^ Barking, Roydon, Dorking* Buntingford, Winch- 
more -Hill, Saffron Walden, and Hertford* 

During his stay at Worthing, which was in the 
month of February, he made several excursions to 



118 

Brighton, which became more endeared to him by 
every visit. The attachment was mutual. His 
ministry excited universal attention: multitudes 
pressed to hear him. The public prints declared 
their admiration of his powers; 3nd the private cir- 
cle forgot the trifling topics of the day, intent upon 
the discussion of his rare and extraordinary talents. 
More especially did he bind to him, in affectionate 
remembrance, the hearts of the young*, by the warmth, 
simplicity, and affection of his addresses to them: 
and in no place which was honored by his labors, 
was his worth more fully appreciated in life, or his 
loss more deeply and universally lamented in death! 

On the evening of Thursday, the 18th of May, 
he preached again at Hoxton chapel. His text on 
that occasion was Isaiah lxi, 10, ''I will grelitly re- 
joice in the Lord, my soul shall be joyful in my God; 
for he hath clothed me with the garments of salvation; 
he hath covered me with the robe of righteousness. - 

But by so much preaching and fatigue, his strength 4 
became exhausted and his health impaired; and dur- 
ing the midsummer vacation, the" committee super- 
intending the stations of the preaching students, ap. 
pointed him to spend some weeks at Dorking, ia 
Surrey, where the labor was but small, the retire- 
ment deep, the country beautiful, and the air salu- 
brious! To this place he went in the beginning of 
July, — having first paid a visit to his family at Hert- 
ford, and preached again in his native town. At 
Dorking he was committed to the care of Mrs. Alex- 
ander, a kind and pious matron, whose hospitable 
attention to ail the servants of Christ who have had 
the happiness to repose beneath her roof, renders he? 
worthy the appropriate epithet of— " Mother in Ism- 






119 

el." The praises of such pious women are, and 
ought to be, in all the churches. Happy is that con- 
gregation which possesses one or two such valuable 
and useful characters. To the youthful preachers 
who may be commissioned from their respective 
academies to labor for awhile in the congregations to 
which they belong, they often prove an inestimable 
blessing. By their timely assiduities, not unfre- 
quently, diseases the most serious and alarming may 
be averted, by which valuable ministers might have 
been early snatched from the church and from the 
w r orld; and, at any rate, those little offices of unaffect- 
ed kindness, in the performance of which they so 
much excel, will tend to soothe the anxieties by 
which, in early life, many a delicate frame is prema- 
turely wasted and impaired! 

For Spencer too the spot was admirably chosen. 
Nothing could better suit his fondness for retire- 
ment, and love of social or solitary walks. I am 
not a stranger to the scenery — I once visited it, like 
him, for relaxation; and the remembrance of those 
happy days, in a thousand pleasing pictures and en- 
chanting forms, crowds at this moment on my mind. 
The country is sufficiently bold and varied to inspire 
with ideas of grandeur and magnificence, though not 
so romantic and vast as to excite astonishment and 
terror. From the summit of abrupt and lofty hills 9 
clothed with luxuriant foliage, the delighted eye may 
roam at leisure over woods and valleys, that will not 
yield in fruitfulness and beauty to the fairest plains 
of Italy; and in deep embowered glens, made cool 
and fragrant by meandering streams, the mind may 
yield to melancholy musings and to solemn thought 



120 

J — so unbroken is the silence, — so profound the soli- 
tude!* 

During his stay at Dorking it was his happiness 
to form a friendship the most intimate and endeared 

* In one of these retired dells, -where art has followed up the rcide design of 
nature, a rustic temple, unadorned and simple as the genius of the place, affords 
to the \» eary w anderer its temporary rest. A grateful poet has left some tribu- 
tary lines in honor of the scene, of which they are so descriptive, that I hope I 
shall be pardoned if I introduce them here: — 

"Stranger, whenceso'er you come, 
"Welcome to this rustic dome; 
Welcome to the hill — the glade; ♦ 

"Welcome to the forest shade. 

To our simple homely fare, 
Come and welcome — banish care; 
Climb our hills, and health inhale, 
Borne upon the scented gale. 

Bury in this wooded glen, 

All the cares of busy men; 

While the streams that round us roll, 

Sweetly murmuring, soothe the sooli 

See, the glorious orb of day 
Gilds us with his parting ray; 
Whilst above the woods afar 
Sweetly shines the ev'ning star. 






Stranger, rest thee here awhile, 
Till the morning sun shall smile, 
Then explore the fairy scene, 
Lovely as a waking dream. 

Worn and -wasted by disease, 
Pale and languid — ill at ease, 
Sa} , does health thy care employ — 
Health, the fost'ring nurse of joy? 

Come, and chase her on our hills; 
Meet her by our purling rills; 
Woo her mid our shadowing trees; 
Catch her on the balmy breeze! 

Health and peace, and joy are here; 
Come and welcome — banish care- 
Cease thy w and'rings — lose thy woes, 
Yielti to pleasure and repose!" 



, 



121 

with Mr. J. Haddon, of London; and on the return 
of that gentleman to town, Mr. Spencer began an 
epistolary correspondence with him, which continued 
till his death, A valuable assortment of these letters 
have been kindly put into my hands, and with the 
greater part of them I shall enrich these pages. The 
following is, I believe, the first in the series;— 



No. 15. 

TO MR. JOHN HADDON. 

Dorking, July 25th, 1809. 

""-MY WORTHY FRIEND, 

"I know no other way of expressing the 
pleasure your letters and your society have afforded 
me, than by endeavoring to repay your kindness, or 
at least by shewing you that I am sensible of the 
obligations under which I am laid by you. The 
pleasant interviews, the truly social walks, and the 
various other enjoyments which we experienced 
together, have left an impression of attachment to 
yourself on my mind, which I am persuaded will not 
be easily obliterated. The country is indeed as pleas- 
ant in itself now, as it was the week before last; yet 
believe me, it is not half so mach enjoyed by me as 
it was then. — The same streams indeed glide pleas- 
antly along — the same hills majestically rise — the 
same enlivening prospects strike the eye, and per- 
vade the soul, with admiration — and every thing 
around me seems to say, c Tis Surrey stilly but there 
is a sad deficiency in all my perambulations — it is, 
11 " 



; 122 

Hhat I am all alone.'* — Yesterday I went to Brock - 
ham; but there was no Haddon to meet me on my 
way thither, or to return with me any part of the 
\yay home. Last Tuesday evening Mr. Moore very 
politely offered to take me Epsom, to hear Mr. 
Clayton the next day; which offer I most willingly 

* This is a quotation from a beautiful poem of Henry Kirke White's, to whose, 
charming productions Spencer -was most ardently attached. The poem itself 
so accurately describes the state of his own mind, and the melancholy musings 
in which he indulged, in his solitary walks, when deprived of the pleasure oi 
his friend's society, that I need not apologize for its introduction here:—* 

SOLITUDE, 

IT is not that my lot is low, 
That bids this silent tear to flow; 
It is not grief that bids me moan, 
It is, that I am all alone. 

In woods and glens I love to roam, 
When the tir'd hedger hies him homei 
Or by the wood-land pool to rest, 
When pale the star looks on its breast 

Yet when the silent ev'ning sighs, 
W ith hallow 'd airs and symphonies, 
My spirit takes another tone, 
And sighs that it is all alone. 

«. The autumn leaf is scar and dead, 
It floats upon the water's bed; 
1 wo lid n< bj a leaf to die 
Without recording sorrow^ sigh! 

Th r - woods aid winds with sullen wail, 
Tell ill the same unvaried tale; 
I've none to smile when I arn free, 
And when I sigh, to sigh w ith me! 

Yet in my dreams a form I view, 
That thinks on me, and loves me tooi 
] start, and when the vision's flown, 
I weep that I am all alone. 

To C:Cfe mild complainings of this sainted bard, a reply, characterised by the 
same, tenderness of thought and elegance of expression, has been furnisked hr 
'"the jieu of Mr. Josi&h Cocder/af London: — 



123 

Accepted. On the whole, we had rather a pleasant day. 
Mr. George Clayton preached on Matt, xxi, 28. It 
may perhaps give you pleasure to hear, that I preach- 
ed very comfortably last Lord's day from the new 
bible, which is exactly the thing. I should know 
very little of the trials and difficulties of life, were I 
always to live as I now do. I really feel sometimes 
as if I needed something to quicken me to diligence, 
and put the graces of the Spirit in exercise, which, t 
am afraid, were I long to glide down life's stream so 
easily as I now do, would begin to die. Ease is n 
dangerous foe to the prosperity of religion in the soul, 
and opposition of some kind is essentially necessary 
for us who profess a religion which is described as a 
race to be run, as a battle to be fought, and which 
is represented to us by every metaphor which gives 
us the idea of active labor and unceasing exertion* 
I hope to have the happiness of frequently meeting 
with you after my return to town; and I have the 
pleasure to inform you, that my appointments favor 

ON READING THE POEM ON SOLITUDE, 

In thz 2d vol. of H. K. White's Remains. 

BUT art thou thus indeed alone: 
Quite unbefriendad — all unknown? 
And hast thou then His name forgot, 
Who form'd thy frame and fix'd thy lot r 

Is not his voice in evening's gale? 
Beams not with him the star so pale? 
¥ Is there a leaf can fade and die, 

Unnotic'd by his watchful eye? 

Each fluttering hope, each anxious fear — 
Each lonely sigh, each silent tear, 
To thine Almighty friend is known: 
And say'st thou thou art "all alone?" 



124 

such intention. Mr. Wilson has written to inform 
me, that I shall preach in town fur five Sabbaths after 
the vacation. The manuscripts you sent highly de- 
light me. Mrs. Smith wishes me to leave Herbert 
with her, to which I know you will not object. I 
continue about the same in my health as I was when 
you left me; and am very thankful that here I have 
not to preach so many times as at several other pla- 
ces. That the good will of Him who dwelleth in the 
Lush may ever countenance and console you; that 
the divine Spirit may ever lead you into alfthe truth; 
that you may possess every evidence that you have 
found favor in the sight of the Loid; and that Christ 
Jesus may be your eternal portion, is my humble, 
earnest prayer. Let us hope hereafter to behold his 
face together, in a world where we shall be liable to 
change and separation no more, but where we shall 
be enclosed in glory, changeless as his own. This 
is the desire of one who can truly call himself 
"Your's most affectionately, 

"Thomas Spencer." 

"My kind hostess desires to be respectfully re- 
membered to you. I expect 1 shall be in town next 
Tuesday." 

Mr. Spencer left Dorking after the last Sabbath 
in July; and preached the six following Sundays in 
and about London. The places at which he labor- 
ed during these six weeks were White- Row, Pell- 
street, Jewin-street, Camden-chapel, Adelphi-chapel, 
and Hoxton-chapel. At Jewin-street he preached 
four Sabbaths, out of the six, afternoons and evenings. 
In the meanwhile his health still continued but indif- 
ferent, and indeed so much exertion both of mental 
and of physical strength was but ill calculated to pro- 



125 

mote its vigor. His mind however seemed every day 
to grow in activity and zeal. In the pulpit, — in so* 
ciety, he was all animation and life. Like most who 
are the victims of much nervous irritability, his flow 
of spirits was excessive, which frequently led to un- 
generous and merciless observations from those^who 
either had not the wisdom or the candor to attribute, 
what might appear as levity in him, to its real cause. 
It is indeed an unhappy circumstance, when such is 
the natural tendency of a man's mental constitution, 
and from nothing perhaps have young ministers suf- 
fered more than from this. At the same time, it is 
a shame and scandal to the Christian world, that 
there should be so many, who, professing to be the 
friends of students and youthful preachers, encourage 
and excite this unhappy bias, for their own amuse* 
ment, and are then the first to censure the youth 
they have betrayed! 

But where such is the natural disposition of a 
pious and devoted mind, its exercise in company is 
often followed by the keenest anguish and the deep- 
est melancholy r in hours of solitude and reflection 
The severe and malignant censurer should remem- 
ber, that he is not omnipresent; and that there may 
be scenes in the retired life of the character he in- 
jures, which would put him to the blush! These 
remarks have been suggested by some passages in 
the following letter. 

No- 16. 

TO MR. JOHN HADDON, 

Hoxton, August 15,1309. 
"my dear friend, 

"I am sorry to inform you, that it is not in 
my power to gratify yourself," to please our friencb, 



126 

©r to fulfil my own wishes, by devoting any even- 
ing in the week to visiting. I really cannot do it. 
My engagements this week are such as peremptorily 
to require my continuance at home, most likely till 
Sabbath day, at any rate till Saturday afternoon. I 
am obliged to those kind friends who expressed their 
concern about my exertions. I feel that I am not 
worthy of their sympathy. May their compassion 
lead them to pray for me, that I may be strengthen- 
ed with all might by the Spirit in my inner man; 
and that He whose pleasure it is to increase strength 
to those that have no might, would help the infirm- 
ities of one who is weaker than a bruised reed, and 
yet has undertaken an office, to the discharge of, 
which an angel is incompetent. My health is cer- 
tainly in a better condition than it has been, but I 
am afraid I am still far from well: my head fre- 
quently aches, and I feel a sickness in my stomach. 
These are some of the miseries that flesh is heir to; 
but it is a joyful thought, that in the kingdom of 
glory our bodies will be no longer susceptible of 
pain, nor our minds of disquietude. Perfect health, 
composure, and joy, will be our happy lot when vye 
see each other in a better wbrld. And can we not 
hope that we shall do this; and that forever we shall 
^dore our common Savior together? The leadings 
of his providence first brought us acquainted with 
each other; and the methods of his grace will, I 
hope, lead us on to glory; and in our way thither 
make us helps to each other. Pray for me, that my 
diligence may be excited; my levities checked; and 
my spirituality promoted. After all I say against 
the world, I must confess with shame that I am 
very like many men of the world in this respect; that 
I indulge in a lightness of disposition which is incort- 



127 

sistent with the character of a Christian, and makes 
us resemble those who never think of eternity and 
the solemnities of religion. Ah! my dear friend and 
brother, I have experienced in my short life many a 
bitter hour, occasioned by my own folly in this re- 
spect. But what a scandal is it to a professing 
Christian, that natural dispositions and surrounding 
temptations should overcome a principle of grace in 
the heart — a principle which ought ever to operate 
powerfully in weaning us from folly, and making us 
every day more and more serious and holy. Never 
do you be afraid of cautioning, or reproving me, 
but give me opportunity to prove that ^Faithful 
are the words of a friendP I have felt more, in ref- 
erence to yourself, than I have ever yet expressed. 
More affection for you; more gratitude that Provi- 
dence placed you in my- way; and more determina- 
tion to make you my counsellor and friend — than I 
have ever yet told you. The Lord help us to 
strengthen each Other's hands in his good ways. I 
shallnot like your letters so well if you do not direct 
them yourself. This you will say is folly, but lean- 
not help it." Adieu! 

u Your-s affectionately, 

"Thos. Spencer." 
"N. B. Saturday afternoon, if possible, I will 
see you." 

The history of the following month is from the 
pen of his most intimate friend. 

"At his return [from Dorking] he supplied Jew- 
in-street meeting for a month, in the afternoons and 
evenings, where the attention he excited will not be 
easily forgotten. Before he left, numbers could not 



128 

get admittance. The church were very anxious that 
he should settle among them,* but their desire could 
not be complied with. I have heard him blamed 
respecting that business; but it was only by those 
who did not know the circumstances of the case. I 
was in the possession of his heart in that affair, and 
it would be unjust to his memory not to declare, 
that he was free from blame. His affectionate spirit 
keenly felt for them in their disappointment. 'The 
good people at Jewin- street,' said he, in a letter to 
me, 'have a strong claim upon our prayers;' and it 
was to soothe their minds that he composed his ser- 
mon upon Isaiah xxxiii, 20. The time of his sup- 
plying at Jewin-street was very pleasant to me. I 
claimed the whole of his time between and after the 
services, which inclined him to enjoy that retirement 
which was so congenial to his lowly soul. When 
going to preach no one saw him. — I used to knock 
at his door — give in his refreshment — and watch the 
time for him. — It was from the mount of commu- 
nion that he always went to the pulpit, and this caus* 
ed his sermons to shire gloriously. Frequently in 
passing to the house of God we kept perfect silence 
while his mind has been so entirely absorbed, that I 
have found a necessity for guiding him; and after 
worship he loved to stop as long as he conveniently 
could, that he might pass away unnoticed. But 
such was the character of Spencer — his deephumil- 
ty — fervent piety — and amiable simplicity, that I 
am fully convinced it cannot be fairly stated without 
suspicion of exaggeration; and I must confess, that 
I should have found great difficulty in giving fallen 

* The church was then under the pastoral care of the Rev. Timothy 
Priestley, a truly venerable divine, whose age and inkrmiUes rendered the aid 
c£a colleague necessary. 



129 

mature credit for the excellencies, which, from the 
closest inspection I saw resident in that truly illustri- 
ous and holy youth. ' y 

The following letter, written on the Saturday pre- 
vious to xhe last Sabbath of his supplying Jewin- 
street chapel, discloses his feelings with respect to the 
church in that place, and will prove to the people 
with how much affection he wrote and thought of 
them. Nor will it be less valuable for the spirit of 
filial love and duty which it breathes. 

No. 17. 

TO UR. JOHN HADDON. 

September 2, 1809, 
"my dear friend, 

"Truly sorry am I in any case to disappoint 
you, and yet it must be- so as it respects this even- 
ing. — Before seven o'clock lam necessitated to go 
from home, nor can I return till late in the evening. 
You ask, 'can you not give up this engagement?' I 
answer, this is impossible; because nothing short of 
filial duly is the cause of my absence from home. 
This mcvning I received a letter from my dear fa- 
ther, telling me that he must be in town to-day, al- 
though he has been travelling in the country all the 
week, and he wishes me to meet him this evenings 
at half- past six o'clock. This, I am sure will be 
regarded as a sufficient reason by you, and nothing 
short of such a reason could induce me to go out at 
all this evening, for to tell you the trurh, I am very 
unwell. My head and my side have suffered ex- 
ceedingly for a day o r two past, more especially to- 



130 

day. Nor are my prospects of the morrow of the 
most enlivening kind. In fact, too, my spirits are 
very low. The sight of my aged parent may per- 
haps revive them, and make l my heart rejoice; even 
mineP Mr. \V. has just told me, that he has in- 
formed Mr. S. that I cannot supply them any longer 
than to-morrow. The opinion of the committee, 
&c. goes against them I For my part, I can only say, 
k My God, thy will be doneP You will see me at Jew- 
in-street in the afternoon, but whether able or inca- 
pacitated to perform my duty there, I know not. 
Pray for me, that much grace may communicate to 
me sufficient strength, 

"Whether well or ill, cheerful or melancholy, I 
am your's affectionately, 

"Thomas Spencer. ?; 

Having completed his engagements at Jewin- 
street, Spencer's labors became again miscellaneous 
and widely diffused. On Sabbath day the 17th, he 
preached at Roydon, a village near Hertford, when 
he availed himself of the opportunity which this ap- 
pointment afforded him of visiting his family. I 
cannot but conceive the bliss which such occasional 
interviews would cause in that little circle, which had 
once the happiness to call him their's. To- them the 
recollection of those happy hours devoted to social 
or sacred intercourse with their departed friend, 
must yield a soothing, though a melancholy pleas- 
ure. Nor is the reflection less honorable to his 
memory, than it is consolatory to their minds. In 
the midst of the unbounded popularity which he 
enjoyed— surrounded by new and splendid connex- 
ions — the admiration of listening crowds, each eager 
to express his approbation — all ambitious of his 



131 

friendship— he ever thought. with the warmest affec- 
tion upon those whom he had left in that obscurity 
from which he had himself emerged. — Gladly did 
he seize the opportunity, when it occurred, of retir- 
ing from the public eye to taste again the tranquil 
pleasures of his home, and enjoy the interchange of 
all those sacred and delightful feelings, which 
strengthen and endear the ties and obligations of so- 
cial or domestic life— He was not unduly elated by 
his popularity. In his new associations he did not 
forget his kindred and his father's house.* — His fami- 
ly did not sink in his regard^in proportion as he rose 
to eminence. The voice of universal praise did 
not drown the milder whispers of paternal love* — - 
But in a heart whose best affections were devoted to 
the noblest objects, and to which new scenes of ex- 
ertion were perpetually unfolding, the family at Hert- 
ford held an honorable and distinguished place. The 
most extensive public engagements, are not incom- 
patible with the retired duties of private life— and 
the cares and responsibilities of the most laborious 
ministry may be sustained and discharged, without 
absorbing those affectionate regards so justly claim- 
ed by parental kindness and fraternal love. 'Tis 
true, that as a Christian, "mid in his official capacity, 
every believer in Jesus is to the faithful minister a 
father — a mother — a sister — and a. brother. But as 
a man the relations of life exist for him — and the 
feelings of humanity must be common to him too. 
A heart from which these ties are rudely severed— 
is but ill adapted to that soothing influence by which 
the office of the ministry becomes a source of com- 
fort to the wretched;— and a man whose bosom is 
a stranger to the tender sympathies of human life — 
alike insensible to ?oy or sorrow — 'may with nropn- 



132 

ety adminisister the cold rites of a Stoical philosophy 
— but must ever be a living contrast to the religion 
of Jesus — a system whose characteristic spirit is that 
of the purest and tenderest philanthropy. 

Before his departure for Roydon, the following 
letter was addressed by Mr. Spencer to his friend. 
The observations at the beginning upon Christian 
boldness are judicious — and, though ignorant of the 
particular circumstances which might have called 
them forth, cannot fail to prove interesting and in- 
structive. 

No. 18. 

TO MR. JOHN HADDON. 

Thursday Evening, Sept. 14, 1809. 

"lIY DEAR TRIEND, 

"I know you wish me to write you a great 
deal; but I must plead the old excuse — want of time; 

for I find that , instead of calling to-morrow 

morning, must have this directly, and I have but 
this minute left the chapel. You tell me your 'mind 
recoils from public duty, however plain and clear, 5 
and you need not to be told that this is a pity; and 
in this respect you do not display that Christian 
boldness which is after all consistent with genuine 
humility — which the apostle displayed and enforc- 
ed — which the Bible every where recommends — and 
which is well calculated to evidence our decided at- 
tachment to Jesus and his cause. It shall be my 
part, however, not co reproach you for the want of 
it, but to carry your wants before our Father's 
throne, and entreat him to fill you with all holy 
boldness and Christian courage; whilst at the same 



133 

lime 1 Motile! most earnestly entreat you to consid- 
er the foolishness of your fears: the little need we 
Inve to seek to please our follow creatures, or to 
dread them, and above all the constant inspection ' 
of Him who said, whosoever shall confess me before 
men, him shall the Son of Man also confess before his 
holy angels. But I am persuaded that you are not 
ashamed of Jesus; yet there is great need for us all 
to ask ourselves repeatedly, 'am I fully on the Lord's 
side? 5 because this very examination itself produces 
the best effects, as it prompts us to give evidence 
before others of the reality of our hope, and it brings 
us near to God, who can make us strong in the 
grace that is in Christ Jesus, and faithful even un- 
to 'death. Your letters always affect me; your com* 
pany you know delights me; and what shall I say of 
your attachment to me, but that it meets return, I 
am often indeed induced to believe that you are too 
careful of me, and too much concerned about me, 
Expressions of gratitude on my part from my 
mouth or pen I know you do not want, therefore I 
shall not trouble you with them. My mind is per- 
fectly at ease about the present or future laws of the 
house, as well as about any situation after I have 
foiled it. O that I may be stayed on God! I o fieri 
think what a pity it will be, if from our friendship 
there should arise no good effect; however here I 
am wrong, because I am myself a witness that good 
•effects have arisen to me; but I long that to us there 
may be opened fresh sources of comfort and joy m 
God, and that we may then be made abundant bles- 
sings to each other. I am going to preach next 
Sabbath at R'oydon, a village near Hertford, where I 
have reason to hope God has owned and blessed my 
Unworthy labors before. May he do so again. Per- 
1% 



,13,i 

iiaps I may go to Hertford to-morrow afternoon, as 
It was the place of my nativity, and is now the resi- 
dence of my dear fa. her, my sisters, brother, awl 
mother-in- law. I could say much mere, (though in 
the same feeble and desultory style) but you per- 
ceive my paper is full. I cannot expect to see yoy 
at all till Tuesday. The coach comes in town on 
"Monday evening, about half past six. If I can, .! 
will walk then to Fleet-street. 
4 'Adieu, my dear friend, 

"Thomas Spencer." 



I rom this period to that of his firs! visit to Liver- 
i -j1, I am not in possession of any remarkable oc- 
' indices in Mr. Spencer's history. At any rate, 
I ;im aware of none which tend to illustrate any par- 
ticular feature of his character — or of such a nature 
; s to warrant their publication to the world. But 
there yet remain many interesting letters to his 
riend, Mr. Haddon, which will tend very much to 
supply the want of a connected narrative — and that 
friend who curing this period, enjoyed the most inti- 
mate acquaintance with him — and obtained a most 
accurate knowledge of his character, has furnished 
me with a series of anecdotes and observations, 
which will make the reader familiar with the man, 
—and most strikingly exhibit the holy, humble and 
fervent bias of his mind. .For the present I shall 
content myself with making a selection from these 
letters, with such occasional remarks as may be 
necessary to illustrate their subjects or occasions; 
whilst the characteristic sketches above alluded to, 
mill occupy some of the succeeding pages. * 



1S5 V 
No, l&M 

>0 MR* JOHN II ADDONS 

Hoxton, Oct. 12, 1809. 

'MY DEAB FRIEND, 

"With pleasure it is that I inform you, thr t 
lam appointed for VauxhalL I feel pleasure, be- 
cause this assignation give us another opportunity 
of enjoying each other's society. I have not yet- 
written to those friends in the country, but intend 
doing it 'to- morrow. May the young lady die In 
such a peaceful and happy state of mkid, as shall 
instead of suffering the survivors to sorrow as those 
who have no hope, rather give them to say — Behold 
hovo he loved her! I mentioned the circumstance to 
Mr. W. at the same time stating the wish of the 
lioydon people tint Fmight supply them on Sabbath 
day* He told me it could not be complied with, as- 
signing as a reason, that Lwas f/iven out at Vaux- 
I ial t. As the affair now stands, lam qyite satisfied, 
because I* wish to resolve all my appointments into 
the will of die Head of the Church. 'Where He 
appoints, I'll go.' Of all evils, ! pray to be particu- 
larly delivered^from leaning to my own understand- 
ing, and indulging my own wayward will, Mavv 
obstinacy never characterize me. May rrace al- 
ways be given me to suppress it when it rises. To 
these requests 1 know, that from your inmost soul 
you say Amen. One of our fellow students has juss 
delivered us a good sermon from — ''The righteous 
hath hope in his death.- — 1 enjoyed his sermon much 
more than I generally do those which are delivered 
to. us on a Thursday evening;. This was so exper* 



136 

irnenta:-— so scriptural— -so pious, that it found its 
ilfty to my heart. May you and I, whenever we 
shall come to die, have a lively, a sure and a certain 
hope of reigning in life. by Jesus Christ. Whilst so 
many are culled away around us, surely we shou d 
recollect the uncertainty of our own continuance up- 
on cardr, and as death is still potent, still inexorable, 
and still delights to surprise, let it be our chief con- 
em to have an interest in t\x affections of the heart 
\>t that Savior who shall destroy this last enemy, and 
r^ive to his followers a crown of glory changeless as 
hisown. — Onhim may we now both live by faith, that* 
so when we have served our generation according to 
his will, we may fall asleep in his arms. 
"Adieu! Yours affectionately, 

"Thomas Spencer." 

The young lady to whom he refers in this letter, 
appears to have been one of the seals of his early 
ministry, and then at the point of death. One of 
the letters written by him on that occasion, I urn 
able to lav before the reader. 

■ No. 20. 

TO MRS. 



-'©EAR MADAM, 

'\i3oth your letters were safely and joyfully 
received by me. I say joyfully, because they shew 
that God is putting honor upon my feeble and un- 
worthy labors, and making use of them for your 
spiritual welfare — a circumstance that gives me 
more real pleasure than any other circumstance pos- 
sibly could. You are much mistaken in supposing 



m 

r 

that I neglected to write to you, bccan&e you had in 
your letters said any tiring improper; nothing could 
be more opposite to my ideas, Had this been the 
ease, I should have felt it hiy duty to have set you 
right: but I can tell you what I can tell my God, 
when I say that I never heard or read an account of 
a young coirvert which appeared more satisfactory, 
or filled me with more delight, than that which you 
give me of yourself. I* say this not to puff you up 
with spiritual pride, but to make you more thankful 
than you have obtained mercy, and to assure you 
that your suspicions of any dissatisfaction on my 
part are altogether groundless. Rather would I ex- 
claim, % whai hath God wrought? and wrought too 
(well may I wonder) by his blessing upon my weak 
exertions. Oh! let the glory be ascribed to Him 
\fho gives testimony to the word of his grace. The 
excuse I have to plead for not writing to you 
before, is want of time and multiplicity of engage- 
ments— for in the academy my time is not my own* 
I- have just been writing a long letter to Mrs. 

\V. -, stating my views, wishes and hopes, for 

the welfare of her amiable and beloved daughter. 
May she be resigned to the- Divine Will, and ready" 
when the heavenly bridegroom cometh! From ail 
that I can learn, I have no doubt of her interest ia 
the affections of that same Jesus who is now, I trust, 
all your salvation, and all your desire. When I re- 
collect that she, a seal to my ministry, is apparently 
g&iug to join the heavenly musicians in singing that 
song which no man can learn but the redeemed? it is 
impossible to express my feelings. I am very desir- 
ous to hear from her own lips an account of the way 
in which the Lord met with her, and a statement of* 
ihe sensations of her mind in prospect of the last 
*12 



i$6 

feonfiiot. I wished to come down to see iicr — I ask 
cd permission. — This could not be granted me, be- 
cause I was given out last Sabbath day at the place 
to which I am going. But I have the happiness of 
informing you that the next Lord's day I shall preach 
atRoydon, and so shall have an opportunity of going 
to Thundridgc Bury Farm. I hope that our cove- 
nant God is leading yon in a plait* path, and teaching 
you mere of the corruption of your own heart and 
the love of Christ by his holy Spirit. All I can rec- 
ommend you to do is, to be much engaged in secret 
prayer to him. Oh! aim to get nesr to him in holy 
communion, then you will find a heaven begun be- 
low. You will have Christ for your constant com- 
panion, and you will obtain the desire of your heart. 
I view this ab the time of your first love. May the' 
zealous affection for Christ which I hope you now. 
discover, increase yet more and more. Live by 
faith upon the Son of Goci, who loved you, and gave 
himself for you. Commit your soul into his hands* 
and the souls of all the members of your family. It 
is my earnest prayer, that you may grow in grace, 
and in the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus 
Christ; that so I may have to rejoice that you receiv- 
ed the gospel when delivered by me, as in deed and 
in truth the word of God and not of man. As for 
your request about a settlement for me at Roydon, 1 
should recommend you not to expect it. I am al- 
ways happy to come amongst you as an occasional 
supply, but I must venture no further. I have 4 
variety of reasons for not considering it my duty to 
settle with any congregation as'yet, or even to think 
of it, ar.d I have thus far not engaged to do so at Roy- 
don. Therefore I must request yotj not mefcly 



■13fr 

to check, but actually to eradicate the thought. 
Wishing you— your respected partner — and all your 
family the best of blessings, I remain 
"Your's sincerely, 

■"Thomas Spencer," 

Had he then been sufficiently advanced in his 
studies to have cherished the idea of an immediate 
settlement— and had he been left to the free, unbias- 
sed expression of his feelings — there is no spot on 
which he would have ftxed as the scene of his stated 
and pastoral labors, in preference to a village so tran- 
quil and retired as Roydon. He did not value popu- 
larity, except as it afforded him an opportunity of 
doing good. No one ever was more averse to pomp 
or to parade. He loved simplicity in all its forms. 
It was indeed a characteristic feature of himself; and 
had not the prospect of more extensive usefulness al- 
lured 'him to a wider and more public sphere, his 
j? .ssion for retirement would have guided him in his 
selection of a residence for life. 

Talking with him on- the subject of his health, 
which seemed declining, beneath the pressure of so 
much exertion, his friend said— u Do you wish to be 
early laid aside— or do you desire a premature 
grave?'* "Oh no," said he, -"you know my wish- 
to have a meeting in the country, surrounded by 
trees—occasionally to see the shadows of the leaves 
quivering on the walls, in the reflection of the set- 
ting sun. A burial ground near in which land nty 
people can together lie!* To live a long, honorable, 

* May I may be indulged in another extract from the poems of Kirke White? 
It was a passage which Spencer often read with peculiar emphasif, and seems 
a melancholy comment on his own ideas. 

"Beneath this yew, I would be sepulchred. 
It h a k vely spot! Ths sultry sun, 



no 

and useful life, bringing many souls to the Savior!— . 
This is the summit of my wishes." Though it 
was denied him to enjoy ihejirst, the last object of 
his desire, and by far the most important and dearest 
to his heart, he did possess; for never was so short a 
ministry honored by the conversion of so many souls. 
Every week in Liverpool, discloses some fresh in- 
stances of its success — and one and another is per- 
petually rising up to say — 'By the grace of God 1 am 
what I am y ' but it was the ministry of Spencer that 
led me first a humble supplunt to the throne of 
mercy." 

The situation of young ministers is peculiarly del- 
icate and dangerous. The eyes not only of the re- 
ligious public, but also of the world are fixed on 
them. And it is to be deplored, that where they 
have a right to expect the greatest kindness, they 
often meet with an undue severity; and those who 
ought to be the first to throw the mai.:le of love over 
their defects, are not unfrequendy the most forward 
and exulting in their exposure. To an unhappy and 
inordinate love of scandal, many a fair and unblem* 

From his meridian height, endeavors vain*y 
To pierce the shadowy foliage;" 

"'Tis a nook 
Most pleasant." 

"Yet may not nndistingnish'd be my grave; 
But there at eve may some congenial soul 
T Juiy resort, and shed a pious tear, 
The good man's benisou — no more I ask. 
And oh! (if heavenly belays may look down, 
From where, with Cherubim inspir'd, they git, 
Upon this little dim discover' d spot, 
The earth.) then wfll I cast a glance below 
On him who thus my ashes shall embalm." 

"'Wishing he may not long be doom'd to pine 
In this low-tiioaghted world of darkling wo; 
Bat that, ere kmg, he reach his kindred skiei. ?> 



sslieef reputation has fallen the victim. The scat- 
tered wrecks by which they are surrounded, should 
inspire succeeding voyagers with caution. There is 
a cheerfulness, compatible with the deepest serious- 
ness — the most fervent piety; and there is a (levity* 
in which the dignity of the minister and the sanctity 
of the Christian, may alike be lost. Where this is. 
witnessed, whatever claim the individual may have 
upon the generosity and lenity of the^spectators, he 
has none upon their justice — -they have a right to 
censure,— and however we may deprecate their se- 
verity, — -none can deny them its exercise. And 
here it is perhaps that students are most exposed to 
danger. Fatigued and wasted by the close applica- 
tion and intense thought of many studious weeks, 
they enter, as they imagine, the circle of friendship,, 
and instantly relax. Those who only see the effect, 
and are unacquainted with its cause, hastily form. an 
unfavorable opinion of their character, and cruelly 
propagate the opinion they have rashly formed.* 
These observations are not altogether inappropriate 
to the subject of the following letter. 

* I remember a case in point upon this subject-— -the mention of -which mar 
not be useless. A student from one of our academies had been spending 
some days with a pious and intelligent' gentleman in the country, who was in 
the habit of having the servants of Christ beneath his hospitable rook On 
his departure, the gentleman accompanied h'.s guest some miles on his road, 
and in the course of conversation said- — "I cannot forbear expressing to yon, 
Sir, the satisfaction which 1 have enjoyed in your society, I must confess that I 
have been too often grieved by the levity of *stuc\ nts, whom yet I have highly 
valued; but whilst you have displayed a cheerfulness which has enlivened our 
circle, you have preserved a uniform respect to your sacred office, whifth has 
secured the esteem and admiruUcn of us all," 



142- 
No. 21. 

TOMS, JOHN H ADDON. 

Hoxton College, Oct. 27, 1809. 

v; Al Y LEAR f RIEND, 

"The expressions of affection your last letter,, 
all your letters, and the whole strain of ' your con- 
duct towards me evince, greatly affect me, and you 
will find my feelings upoh the subject in Prov. xxvii, 
19. Sanctified friendship appears to me to be one 
of the best sweets in the cup oflife. It is what the 
.Savior recommended by his own example, and what 
the best of men have experienced beneficial in txcry 
age. May this kind of friendship be exemplified in 
us, and may we mutually share in the affections of, 
the heart of Him, who, "liav'mg loved /us own which - 
were in the world, loved them unto the end!" To 
his will in all things we must bow, and in his dis- 
pensations, however contrary to our inclinations, ac- 
quiesce; but "not my will but thine be done" is 
language which requires a large degree of grace to 
use in all cases, and from the bottom of our hearts. 
"Many eyes are indeed upon me, and much do I 
fear that they will see something in me ere long 1 
that will take them from me. Your warnings *re 
faithful, but my heart is still deceitful, and Satan 
may, for any thing I. know, be about to sift me as 
wheat* You are not ignorant of his devices* Oh! 
then, pray for me, that my faith fail not, so that 
instead of the number of those who behold me, turn- 
ing away from me with disgust and aversion,., they- 
may rather glorify God in me, and take knowledge 
of me that 1 have been with- Jesus. The thought 
that affords me some degree of encouragement, is, 



143 

<that Jehovah knoweth my path, and that he is nble 
to make me stand, yea to remove the suspicions of 
those who [fear and wait to see*' But really I can- 
not help thinking that there are some people in the 
world who. seem, as if they wished for something to 
, hinder one's usefulness; and who by their too sig- 
nificant expressions on the subject, lead me to sup- 
pose that they would rejoice in such a circumstance, 
and say, 'Oh! so would we have it.' And why? 
Because then their clever prophecies would be ful- 
filled, and we should for the future put such confi- 
dence in their forebodings as to view them as 'cer- 
tain omens of ill events. I do hope, however, that 
God will in great mercy either keep me from the 
snares that lie in my way, or take me to himself. 

"I have to day written to the Kidderminster peo- 
ple, referring them to the Doctor, or Mr. Wilson. 
I will try and be with you to-morrow by 12 o'clock* 
Do not be disappointed if I should not be able. 
"I remain your's affectionately, 

Thomas Spencer.' 9 

On Sunday the 5th of November he was appoint- 
ed to preach at Cambridge, in the pulpit lately oc- 
cupied by the Rev. Robert Hall, A. M. a name dear 
to genius, as to religion. The day following he spent 
in viewing the University. In a letter dated the 3d 
he says, 4; last night my surprise was excited by 
seeing that I am not appointed on the list for any 
place in town, but for Cambridge, I am to stay Mon- 
day over at Cambridge, to look at the colleges, &c, 
I shall think much of Kirke White;" and aware of 
the respecability, both in wealth and talent, of the 
congregation he was called to address, he adds, "the 
Lord make me prudent and faithful; may it appear 



1 44 

that he has some good end to answer by conducting 
me thither." 

He was exceedingly attached to the poetry of 
Henry Kirke White. He could repeat a great part 
of it, and frequently quoted it with great emphasis 
and feeling. "And yet," said he, in conversation 
with the friend to whom these letters are addressed, 
"there is a thirst for fame sometimes discovered 
which pains me. 

"Fifty years hence, and Who will hear of Henry/' 

"Well, suppose nobody does, and what then? IF 
Henry has served his day and generation, and is gone 
to glory, neither the church nor he will be losers; and 
the hearing: of Henry will be too small a consideia- 
tion to be brought into the account/" 

Public as Spencer's life had now become, and ex- 
posed -as he was to the influence of every unholy 
passion which popularity might awaken, he yet 
maintained a close and humble walk with God. 
He courted solitude, and for the best of purposes. 
Of him it may be truly said, l his fellowship was 
with the Fattier, and with his Son Jesus Christ." 
The holy and the heavenly tone his mind received 
in those retired hours, gave a peculiar unction to his 
ministry; and the knowledge which, by deep com- 
munion with his own heart and constant intercou.\se 
with God, he had obtained, rendered his preaching 
remarkably profitable to believers, and gave him a 
skill in administering instructions adapted to all the 
varieties of their experience, Of this, the following 
is a pleasing specimen* 



lis 

No. 22. 

TO MR- JOHN HADDON. 

November 9, 1809. 

a MY DEAR FRIEND, 

4, Bc assured that I, as well as yourself, 
have walked in -darkness, and complained that there 
was no light. Fluctuations in experience are, I am 
sure, my lor r whilst my only consolation in such cir- 
cumstances still remain — 'tis the unchangeableness 
of Christ. "Oh! what is so calculated to reconcile 
our minds to the way our IVher calls us to travel, 
as the recollection, that whilst we are found in it; 
Jesus is the same, and that to the end of the jour- 
ney; and in every trying circumstance he is a present 
help. In darkness he will enable us to trust in the 
Lord, and to stay ourselves upon our God; yea, he 
will cheer our desponding souls with visitation 
sweet. Seasons in which we experience darkness 
of mind, and depression of soul, are necessary: 
they form the analogy between us and those who 
through tribulation are gone to heaven: they render 
us fit subjects for the illuminating and refreshing 
grace of Christ: they add a higher relish to the re- 
newed enjoyment of the light and liberty of the gos- 
pel; and they serve to prepare us for that world 
where the Lord shall be our everlasting life, and our 
Ood our glorj\ 

"Reflecting upon deliverance from such time&of 
depression should teach us to s&y—^Return unto thy 
rest, my soul, for the Lord hath dealt bountifully 
with thee/ T It should lead us to anticipate future fa- 
vors, and rejoice that He that hath delivered us can 
and will deliver; and since the day has dawned, and 
13 



the shadows have fled away, we should most cordi- 
ally adore Him who has been appointed to give light 
to them who sit in darkness, and to guide our feet 
intQ the way of peace. May you and I ever enjoy 
the presence of Jesus, our best friend; share in his 
tender sympathy; his kind reproofs; his excellent 
counsels. May he be our God forever and ever, 
and our guide even unto death. Then we need fear 
no evil. If sensible that he is with us, we may pass 
through midnight glooms, and experience a season 
of great darkness, and yet look forward to a future 
time, when with pleasure we shall sing, K The Lord 
is my light, of whom shall I be afraid? Oh! that I 
may be enabled to commit your soul and my own 
into the hands of Jesus as unto a faithful Creator. 
I can now add no more, than to say that 

"I remain affectionately your's, 

■"Thomas Spencer." 

The next letter furnishes another proof of his hu- 
mility and diffidence. It was written the day before 
it became his turn to preach again in the chapel at 
Hoxton the Thursday evening lecture, which the tu- 
tors usually attend. 

No. 23. 

TO MR. H ADDON. 

Dec ember 6, 1809. 

v 'my dear friend, 

"I am sensible that Mr. S.'s politeness 'mer- 
its* much of us, and if I must name some day for 
us to meet there it must be Monday next. This 
we will speak of to-morrow evening. I am sorry 






347 

you have been so busy about so worthless an object 
as myself. I need not say, pray especially for me, 
that a divine blessing may attend me to-morrow 
evening in preaching before those whom you know 
I too much dread as hearers. — 'The Lord grant un- 
to his servant, that with all boldness he may speak: 
his word. 5 I trust your desire and expectation of 
obtaining good on Friday evening will be gratified. 
My mind is rather more composed than it has ever 
been before, when I have had to preach here on the 
Thursday evening. How it will be when the time 
comes, I know not. Many eyes are upon me, and 
different, very different are the feelings with which 
my brethren hear me. But if the Head of the Church 
gives each of them a blessing, they will I hope be 
satisfied. 

"Year's affectionately, 

"Thomas Spencer 5 ". 

It is indeed much to be regretted, that any feeU 
ings but those of mutual affection, forbearance, and 
candor, should be cherished in the hearts of breth- 
ren — and such surely are the students in the same 
academy. But in the present imperfect state of our 
nature, it must be expected, that superior excel- 
lence, while it is the object of universal admiration 
abroad, will, in too many instances, be exposed to 
the malignant glance of envy and of jealousy at home. 
And when the scourge of criticism-is supplied with 
knots by these, who but must expect to smart be- 
neath its strokes. It is certainly to the honor of the 
institution to which Mr. Spencer belonged, that its 
members for the most part knew,, admired, and con- 
fessed his worth;— and if there were any exceptions 
—let them remain in that oblivion in which is their 



143 

best security.* But the solemn admonition of his 
nearly death, should tend to check the bitter exercise 
of that unhallowed sarcasm by which the rise of ex- 
traordinary usefulness or genius is too frequently as- 
sailed. In academies of religion and literature^ 
where the avowed object of every student is, not his 
individual advancement, but the glory of God, a spir- 
it of detraction and envy ought to be unknown. 
The most devoted and useful, should be most es- 
teemed. Every private interest should be lost in 
the general welfare of the church of Christ. One 
may behold, indeed, with less concern, the strokes 
of satire when they fall upon the arrogant, the pre- 
sumptuous, and the vain; — but when talents are at- 
tended by humility — when popularity is connected 
with diffidence — and eminent piety is mingled with 
extraordinary displays of genius, — to such an object 
the severity of sarcasm is improperly directed, and 
every well regulated mind must view its exercise 
with pain. 

About this time his health again declined. A se- 
vere cold for some days deprived him of his voice— 
and he was compelkd to rest one Sabbath day from 
his public work. What were his feelings in pros- 
pect of that Sabbath, this letter will declare. 

* "Those who admire and cherish rising ta'ent, can have no hitter reflec- 
tions when they contemplate the grave of Spencer. They hailed his en- 
trance into public lite, and strengthened his hands by their prayers and their 
approbation. Those who could envy him, and such I know there were, 
must be covered with merited shame, when they behold him so early stript 
cf those honors, talents, advantages, and successes, which exposed him to 
their jealousv and malignity. If these unworthy men were before me, I 
would 'speak daggers to them, but use none! 5 " — See Styles' Funeral jSer-mon 
for the Rev. T. Spencer, page 28. 



149 

No. 24. 

TO MR. JOHN HADDON. 

December 6, 1809, 
"my - bear friend, 

"It appears that your suspicions that I should 
preach three times to-morrow, will not, cannot be real- 
ized, for Mr. Western, as well as those around me are 
agreed, that I must not go to Hertford at all, judging 
it dangerous for me to go out, much more so to 
preach. Yesterday I passed a miserable day. The 
thought of the pain of mind the letter I sent home 
would occasion to my friends, hurt me much, and I 
was much worse than I had been before, as my lungs 
and throat felt more inflamed* To-day t think I am 
better, but still very far from well. I can scarcely 
bear the prospect of a silent Sabbath. I think I shall 
be quite out of my element to-morrow. Ohf that 1 
did but more firmly believe, that he who is my Sa- 
vior does all things well, and that he who sustains 
the dread character of Judge of all the earth must do 
right. If 1 am able, I shall hear Mr. Hordle in the 
morning. I have no voice yet. I hope it is not 
irretrievably lost, t need not say, that if you can 
call this evening,, it will give me unspeakable plea* 
sure. 

"Your's affectionately, 

"Thomas Spencer/ 5 

Reflecting on this temporary indisposition in a 
letter to his father, he says,r — "Ihave reason to hope 
that the measure of affliction with which our heav- 
enly Father thought fit to visit xne r has been mad^ 
*13 



1 



ISO 

a blessing to my soul. It gave me time for reflec- 
tion and close self examination, heave a new zest 
to my feelings, and when it was removed, I hope I 
v :\s inspired with fresh ardor to live for the glorv 
of God." 

Amid the constant bustle of a public life, the re- 
tirement winch temporary indisposition affords, 
must be most beneficial to a pious mind. Then it 
can relax into a c:ilm and intimate communion with 
itself. It can quietly indulge in such a review of 
the past — and such an anticipation of the future, as 
will tend not n little, under the sanctify wig influence 
of the Holy Spiiit, to curb its impetuosity — correct 
its levity — and regulate its principles. From the 
chamber of sickness, the exercises of the pulpit will 
be furnished with materials 01 the highest order; 
and the beds of the deceased will be attended with 
a sympathy, which experience of similar affliction 
only can excite. 

The greater pan of the Christmas vacation Mr, 
Spencer spent at Brighton, and on the first day of 
the year 1810, he preached at the Rev. Mr. Styles' 
chapel, to young people, from 2 Chron. xxxiv, 27, 
28. 'Because thine heart Was tender, and thou didst 
humble thyself! before God, when thou heardst his 
words against this place, and against the inhabitants 
thereof, and humblest thyself before me, and didst 
rend thy clothes and weep before me: I have even 
heard thee also, saith the Lord. Behold 1 will gath- 
er thee to thy fathers, and thou shalt be gathered to 
thy grave in peace. Neither shall thine eyes see all 
the evil that I will bring upon this place, and upon the 
inhabitants cf the same.'' 

The good seed which he was the instrument of 
scattering in Brighton, very rapidly sprang up. In 
a letter to his father, written immediately on his re- 



151 

turn from thence, and dated Jan. 12th, 1810, he 
says, "a young person who had heard me at Mr, 
Styles 5 last year, was called by divine grace under 
my instrumentality, and died before I went this time, 
bearing an honorable testimony to the religion of Je- 
sus, and to her interest in it. Oh! what hath God 
wrought!" 

During his stay at Brighton, he had occasion to 
solicit a favor of his friend in London, the perform- 
ance of which was acknowledged in the following 
letter. 

No. 25. 

TO MR. HADDON. 

Brighton , January 1, 1810* 
"my dear friend, 

"However you may smile at the idea of my 
writing you a 'letter of thanks,' I assure you I think 
you have a claim upon it, for you have done for me 
what I should have liked few others to have done; 
but suffice it to say, it came safe to hand Last 
Thursday evening 1 preached on Luke xxiv, 32. 
Yesterday morning at the Countess', qn Eph. ii, 14. 
In the evening at Mr. Styles', it being the clo->e of 
the year, on Exodus xxiii, 20. To-night I shall 
only preach, as one minister will commence, and 
another close with prayer. It is said that I shall 
preach at the chapel on Thursday evening. You 
ask me where 1 shall be next Sabbath. Many ad- 
vise me to remain at Brighton; but it is my present 
intention to return home on the Friday, though I re- 
ally feel myself in a difficulty about it. I hope I 
have, since I have been at this place, enjoyed the di- 



152 

vine blessing — those with whom I associate are the 
excellent of the earth — with no others have I any oc- 
casion to be at all connected. In this respect I am 
like your good friend Mr. H. of Westminster. We 
certainly do not in general sufficiently estimate the 
worth of the society of those who discover the mind 
that was in Christy— great is the benefit we may de- 
rive from their company. Oh! let those of us who 
fear the Lord speak often with one another; one may 
thus come at each other's follies, and stimulate each 
other to the performance of that good, acceptable, 
and perfect will of God. I think my cold is getting 
better. After I had preached last night, a valuable 
young Scotch clergyman who was there, wished I 
might live to preach many such sermons — What 
could I say, but -all the days of my appointed time 
will I wait 'till my change come? It is a great satis* 
faction to know, that we are training up for heaven, 
and 'ripening apace for the vision of God. 5 Pray for 
me, that this perseverance may be given me. You 
know my object is the glory of God in the good of 
souls, — that this may be accomplished, by my exer- 
tions, is my prayer, my hope, my aim. Whether 
living or dying, may we be the Lord ? s. I have, how- 
ever, at present no other idea, than that I shall be 
spared yet, &\v\notdie, but live and declare the works 
of the Lord* Wishing you the enjoyment of the 
good will of Him that dwelt in the bushy and assur- 
ing you of my steady attachment, 

"I remain your's affectionately, 

Thomas Spencer.'* 

* Alas! how blind are we to futurity! A clergyman not long since, while 

uttering these very words in the pulpit, suddenly turned pale — his voice 

faultered — he fell back and expired! Little did the amiable Spencer think, 

that the hand which thus conveyed to his friend the pleasing anticipation of a 

Ong and useful life, should lie so soon in the impotence of death] 



153 

t)n Wednesday, the 28th of February, being a 
clay appointed for a general last, Mr. Spencer preach- 
ed a sermon at Hoxton chapel, adapted to the occa- 
sion; his text wasEzek. lx,4, L Go through the midst 
of the city, through the midst of Jerusalem, and set a 
mark upon the men that sigh and cry for all the abom- 
inations that are done in the midst thereof? The gen- 
eral scope and style of this sermon may be ascer- 
tained by thQ following extract from the communi- 
cation of his friend: — 

"A minister said to me, 'I don't knuvv how a 
good fast sermon can be preached, without touching 
upon politicks.' — 'If you will hear Spencer to-mor- 
row, I think you will find that it can be done. 5 
When we met again, he told me that he had heard 
an excellent fast sermon, without a word upon poli- 
ticks. I remember, that in that sermon he said, 'when 
your ear is pained with oaths and imprecations as 
you pass the street, remember that that swearer is 
your fellow countryman, calling for vengeance upon 
your country, and do you, by ejaculatory prayer, 
strive to avert it.' 

To enter into a minute detail of the places at which 
Mr. Spencer preached between this period and the 
ensuing vacation, v;ould be useless. Suffice it to 
say, that his labors were unremitting — that he visit- 
ed several congregations in the country — particu- 
larly those at Hertford^ Reading, Henley, and 
Brighton. 

He was appointed one of the three students who 
should deliver the public orations at the coming an- 
niversary — held at midsummer. This preyed with 
considerable anxiety on his mind, and although one 
should have imagined that by this time he had be- 



154 

come familiar with large auditories and critical hear- 
ers — yet we find him shrinking from the task, and 
expressing many fears respecting it. The subject 
allotted to him was, "The influence of the 
cospel on the spirit and TEMPER." His col- 
leagues in that trying service was, Messrs. John 
Burder and Stenner; and to these gentlemen were 
given as topics of discussion, "The doctrine of 
the atonement,'* and u The influence of the 
Holy Spirit." The day before that on which the 
discourses were to be delivered, he expressed his 
feelings thus:— 

No. 26. 

TO MR. JOHN HADDON. 

Hoxton, June 19, 1810. 

^'MY DEAR FRIEND, 

"Consonant with your request, I here trans- 
mit to you the notes of the sermon an Eutychns: if 
you can, let me have them again before I go into 
Lancashire. You mention to-morrow, and oh t what 
anxiety do I feel in the prospect of it; already it has 
cost me some tears, it may cost me many more. 
Would to God that I may experience the assisting 
grace of Him who has before proved himself able ta 
do for me exceeding abundantly above all that I 
could ask or think. "If the light of his countenance 
shine upon me, then I shall shine in the sight of hea- 
ven, and in the eyes of his saints, who know and can 
recognise the reflections of the Savior's glory. From 
what 1 can anticipate of the congregation, it will be 
terrific; but does not the promise, 'lam with you 
always? extend to particular occasions? Most cer- 



155 

tainly it does; then it takes in this trying service. 
May I have faith and trust in it, and be favored with 
an experimental confirmation of its truth. Believ- 
ing that you do sincerely and constantly commend 
me to the kind care of your Father and my Father, of 
vour God and my God, I remain 
Affectionately your's, 

"Thomas Spencer." 

We now arrive at the period of Mr. Spencer's first 
visit to Liverpool. Before we pass on with him to 
that new and interesting scene, it may be well to 
pause, and to take such a general view of his mode 
of thinking and acting, while a student, as the follow- 
ing characteristic sketches from the hand of his most 
intimate friend, will furnish. I shall present them in 
a miscellaneous way just as they occur. Thus the 
reader will converse with him, — hear his own senti- 
ments expressed in his own language, and imper- 
ceptibly become familiar with the man. 

"That passage,' said he, 'is much upon my mind^ 
— *Let no man despise thy youth.' I understand 
the apostle thus: — Let your walk and conduct be 
such, that no man can despise thy youth. And such 
shall be my own." 

"He was favored with peculiar facility in compo- 
sition. 'Many a sermon,' said he, 'have I compos- 
ed between Hoxton and your house.' His ideas 
flowed faster than he could write them, and when 
alone, our conversation has met with frequent inter- 
ruption from his stopping to commit to paper, be- 
fore they escaped him, the ideas crossing his mind. 
Turning to me privately, as I sat by his side one 



156 

evening at the tea-table, of a friend, 'Look at that, 5 
said he, 'will it do?' It was the sketch of a sermon, 
which he had composed during the conversation. 'I 
don't know, 5 said he, (and those who suppose my 
friend was boasting, did not know him) 'I don't 
know,' said he, 'that for a long time I have had time 
enough for any one sermon; I was crampt in every 
head for want of time. 5 His sermons at that time 
were 65 minutes to 75 in preaching; though his 
hearers were not aware of it. 55 

"In composing, he used to fold a sheet of fools- 
cap paper in eight leaves, leaving the last side for 
the heads of application. However long the ser- 
mon might be, he never wrote more of it; and in 
preaching, varied the sermon every time he preach- 
ed it. 'How do you obtain your texts? 5 I keep a 
little bopk in which I enter every text of scripture 
which cornes into my mind with power and sweet- 
ness. Were I to dream of a passage of scripture, 
I should enter it; and w T hen I sit down to compose, 
I look over the book, and have never found myself 
at a loss for a subject. 55 

"His memory was remarkably tenacious; he could 
regularly repeat every service in which he had ever 
engaged, with the chapter which he had read, and 
those of his acquaintance who were present. Re- 
turning from Holloway, after preaching, said he, 
*X)id you perceive any thing particular in me this 
morning? 5 'No. 5 'I was very ill in the pulpit; my 
memory totally forsook me; I could not recollect 
my subject, but having my notes in my pocket, I 
took them out and read them. 5 'I am glad of ir; I 
give you joy; you can no longer condemn assistance 



157 

to an imperfect memory.* 'O no, I boast no more;' 
from henceforth, I am silent upon that subject." 

■"The young man that has just passed my study 
door,' said he, 'is fcaiful that he shall not keep up 
variety in his sermons. The best way that I find to 
attain variety is continually to ask myself 'What is 
there in the circumstances before me, that will bene- 
fit my Sermon on Sabbath morning?' for a minister 
should turn every thing into gold. And by keeping 
my eye continually upon that point, I am seldom at 
a loss for variety. 5 ' 

"Few persons have held pulpit eloquence in high- 
er estimation than Spencer did, or in more contempt 
when it stood in competition with the interest of 
souls. I remember asking his opinion of an eloquent 
sermon which he had been hearing— 'Why,' said he y 
% could have wept over it — I could have wept to 
hear immortals so treated," 

"Your morning sermon yesterday was approved, 
but not that in the afternoon.' 'No, I suppose not, 
and I will give you the reason, In the morning 
when I preached on privileges, they were pleased; 
but when, in the afternoon, I came to duties, they 
remembered their treatment of their late venerable 
pastor. I particularly respect aged ministers, and 
love to assist them, and generally add a trifle to the 
•collection, when I have been preaching in behalf of a 
church which has an aged minister." 

"He was much tried by the envy of some little 
minds. 'Mr. S. J said — — to him, 'You was very 
late, I hear, at Walworth.' '"Yes, Sir, and there you 
14 



156 

rnvay see your own error; you know you say I am 
too eager for the pulpit, now you see your mistake. 5 
At another time, 'Spencer,' said a person whose 
name shall be secret, 'Popularity is a dangerous 
thing. 5 'It is.' 'No one is popular long.' 'Very 
true.' 'You are popular now, but you will not be 
so long,' 'That I certainly shall not, Sir, if your 
wishes are accomplished; but I fully believe that my 
popularity hurts you more than it does me,' The 
bell soon after summoned him to read (in his turn) 
a sermon for general criticism. Ttie first person cal- 
led upon said, that its merits were such, that he had 
nothing to say of its defects. That sentiment was 
^universal, e And,' said he to me afterwards, 'when 
I considered what had passed, I felt that that was a 
moment of gratification. " 

"A lady, who had misunderstood an idea in his 
sermon, wrote me a hasty letter, charging him with 
antinomianism, and me with gross impropriety in 
liearing him. It was Saturday night, and he was to 
preach in the same pulpit the next day. I went to in- 
form him of the circumstance, that he might take an 
xinperceived opportunity of explaining himself. He 
held out his hand to give his usual affectionate 
squeeze, when I drew back. 'I don't know how to 
shake hands with an antinomian.' 'An antinomian! 
What is the matter?' 'Read this proof of it.' He 
read it; his pleasantry subsided; and with a counte- 
nance which spoke the feeling of his noble soul, 'O,' 
said he, 'this letter does me good. — The attention of 
that congregation would have led me to suppose that 
they were pleased, and perhaps profited by what they 
heard; and yet you see, that there were those present 
who not only misunderstood me, but supposed that 



159 

I was a preacher of antinomianisrm This letter 
does me good; for sometimes Satan claps me on the 
back, here in my study, and says, 'That sermon will 
do very well, and especially from one so young as 
you' — -and then I begin to mount, and fancy that I 
am somebody; bui such a letter as this clips my 
wings — *and then, 5 said he, (with undescribable ex 
pression) k \ drop into my place,— the dust. Do 
bring me all the intelligence of this kind that ypu 
can," 

"How I wish they would begin the servk * with 
Watts' 152 hvmn, 2d book.* * That hvmn alivavs 
tooths my mind in the opening of worshH My 

* SINAI AND SION.— Heb. xii, 18, &c. 

"Not to the terrors of the Lord, 

The tempest, fire and smoke; 
Hot to the thunder of that word 5 

Which God on Sinai spoke ; 

But we are come to Sion's hill, 

The city of our God, 
Where milder words declare h'a \vt.\,> 

And spread his love abroad, 

Behold th' innumerable host 

Of angels, eloth'd in lightt 
Behold the spirits of the just, 

Whose faith is turned to sight? 

Behold thebless'd assembly there s 

AVhose names are writ in heav'n; 
And God, the judge of ail, declares 

Their vilest sins foi'giv'n. 

The saints on earth, and all the deacl, 

But one communion make; 
All join in Christ, their living head, 

And of his grace partake. ^ 

In such society as this 

My weary soul would rest: 
The man that dwells where Jesus is^ 

Must be forever brest." 



160 

whole soul enters into it> especially the List twa 
verses,' 'Why do you not request that it may be 
given out?' 'Because it does not become one of my 
age to dictate.' "Tis no dictation, bat a gratifica- 
tion of your friends; it secures congeniality through 
the service when you mention the hymns you wish. 
€ And can we have it to Staughton? 1 'No. tc \ Prospect.* 
f No, no, titaughton; that is my tune for a common 
metre, and Shir land for short metre.' The 5 th verse 
he frequently quoted." 



ui 



( e day, mentioning to him an interesting text 
of Mr. Cecil's, preached on the last night of the year,. 
said he, 'That will just do for me to preach at Brigh- 
ton, to conclude the services of the present year. 
Bat don't shew' me Mr. Cecil's till I ha\ c composed 
mine. I would not borrow a single idea." 

^Preaching one morning at Hoxton, after he had 
prayed as usual at his entrance into the pulpit, I 
missed him; he bent forward for a considerable time 
so low, that I could scarcely perceive him from the 
gallery. When I afterwards asked him if any thing 
^iled him, said he, 'When I went into the pulpit, 
vand saw that crowded audience, recollecting that 
they were all locking to me for instruction, and re- 
membering my own youth and inexperience, I was 
overwhelmed, and leaning forward, implored more 
earnestly the divine assistance." 

"While preaching a 1 Jewin- street, he one after- 
noon took the two lower steps at once, in ascending 
the pulpit stairs When we afterwards met, I ask- 
ed, 'Did you notice the manner of your going into 
the pulpi:?' 'I did, and thought that you would al- 



ao— it was inadvertent; but it was wrong. It did 
not become the solemnity of the place.— I never re- 
member such a circumstance before, and will be 
more guarded in future.' Asa proof of the neces- 
sity of his watchfulness over the minutiae of his ac- 
tions, I mention that an aged Christian said to me 
some time afterwards, 'I loved Spencer's sermons, 
but there was a lightness about him.' — ; A lightness! 
when, "and where did he discover it? 5 'At our meet- 
ing, in jumping up the pulpit stairs.' 'Did you see 
it more than once?' 'No.' 'Then lean tell you, 
that once he felt and lamented it as deeply as you 
eould; : and I am sure that he never repeated it. Is 
not that satisfactory?' It is." 

"Spencer followed Cecil; lie united deep humili- 
ty with true ministerial dignity: nor do I conceive 
it possible for a youth to be less affected by popu- 
larity than he was; and as to flattery, if his flatterers 
had known the light in which he viewed them, they 
would have been silent. Coming from a vestry, 
where adulation had been offered— 'Don't fear for 
me,' said he, 'on account of what has passed; it was 
to weak to hurt: my danger is when those, on whose 
judgment I depend, speak unguardedly!' At another 
time, after a young. man had been very lavish in his 
praises, (who had several times been guilty of the 
same impropriety) I told him I thought the next 
time he addressed himself to me, I should give him 
a hint of itw 4 Ono, } said he 'treat it with the same 
contempt that I do. To mention it, would give too 
much importance to his judgment. I would not 
have him think that his judgment could do any/ 
harm" 

*i4 



162 

"Spencer was particularly happy in his choice of 
texts for particular occasions; 'I feel great difficulty, 9 
said he, 'in preaching at Hertford, where I have to 
address many who walked with God before I was 
horn. To-morrow will be the first Sabbath that I 
have regularly supplied there. I have chosen for 
my subject, Romans xvi, 7.' In which he shewed 
what it was to be in Christ; and the duties which 
aged Christians owe to younger ones — faithful re- 
proof and exhortation— prayer for them, &c. For 
his sermon on regeneration, he chose Jaftnes i, 18, 
which as he said, comprised the whole subject;-— 
the efficient cause — 'The will of God;' the grand 
means used — 'the w r ord of truth;' the great end in 
view — that believers should be — 'First fruits of His 
creatures.' A gentleman, who possesses a fine 
mind, sind to me, 'I had heard so much of Spen- 
cer, that when I went to hear him, I expected to be 
disappointed; but I found the reverse to be the case. 
When he gave out his text it was with an emphasis 
which so forcibly laid open the apostles argument," 
that my attention was rivetted, and I was perfectly 
astonished.' 5 

'He loved to improve the lestivals of the church, 
such as Christmas and Easter, 'because, 5 said he, 
'people expect then to hear upon the subject, and I 
think we ought to meet every appearance of pre- 
paration of -mind with suitable instruction. The 
passage of scripture which led my mind to the 
irinistry, and which satisfies me as to the proprie- 
ty of my engaging in it, is that promise oi God to 
the Gentile church, Isaiah lxix, 21. — Oh! that text 
is very precious to me; while the death of Miss 
— — - at Brighton, and Miss — ~ at , tends to 



163 

convince me that I am right.' Those ladies died in the 
Lord, and were called under Spencer's ministry." 

"I used,' said he, 'to feel very much in preaching 
before certain characters. My difficulty is now re- 
moved by considering, that, let them be as learned 
or as pious as they may, it is probable that they 
have not turned their attention to the individual 
point before me so closely as I have, and therefore 
it is likely that my sermon may afford some in- 
struction even to them,, and this thought gives me 
courage." 

"Mr. Spencer's simplicity in dress was well 
known. He avoided in that respect the very ap- 
pearance' of evil, that his ministry might not be 
blamed. One Sabbath morning, when he called for 
me, he had a new coat on, which I told him I 
thought was more fashionable than he would ap- 
prove. I 'did not know it,' said he, and on the next 
Sabbath morning, he asked me if I thought it more 
becoming then: he had had it altered." 

"I was desired by several medical gentlemen to 
inform him, that unless he slackened his exertions, 
he could not live to see five and twenty. When I 
mentioned it, he said, 'that it certainly must be at- 
tended to, for that his hope was to live a long and 
useful life.' He therefore determined to alter the 
length of his sermons from an hour or sixty-five 
minutes 10 forty-five." 

"lam going,' said he, Ho preach at Vauxhall to- 
morrow, where you may come with a very safe -con- 
science. You need not be .afraid of a large congre- 



£3 



164 



gatioti there. You do not like large congregations 
for me; but don't you remember how much more 
encouragement and satisfaction the man has who fish- 
es in a pond which is full of fish, than he who fish- 
es in a place where he knows there are but two orr 
three." 

"Before 3. left the academy, a gentleman, whose 
judgment, or piety, few are disposed ta dispute, said 
to me-'if it were not for the sound of his voice, with 
my eyes shut, I could suppose him a man of seven- 
ty. He is ripening fast for heaven — I can fancy 
him an angel, come down into the pulpit, soon to re- 
ton.'* 

"Another gentleman, possessed of undeniable 
critical skill, and difficult to please, after iie had heard: 
him, said* 'X stood the whole service — and I could 
have stood till midnight. I felt as under the influ- 
ence of a charm I could not resist, and was rivetted 
to the spot, intent only upon the fascinating object 
I saw before me.' V 

"It was with sincere pity that he saw any young 
minister descend from the holy dignity of his station,. 
by attention, as soon as the service vas concluded,, 
to the advance of females, who, had ihey really re- 
ceived the benefit they professed, would have shewn, 
it in a very different way."* 

* This is to Spencer's honor. Those who are accustomed to attend the 
vestries in London, after the sermons of popular preachers, will enter into the 
meaning of this observation. It would be well, if some whom it may con? 
eer.n would also take the hint- it affords. 



165 i 

Mr. Spencer was appointed by the committee to 
spend the midsummer vacation in this year at New- 
ington chapel, Liverpool, then destitute of a pastor, 
by the death of the Rev. David Bruce. The report 
of his'extraordinary talents and amazing popularity 
had already, from various quarters, reached that 
place. And the congregation amongst whom he 
was, for a few weeks to labor, had some pleasing ex- 
pectations, that they might find in him a future pas- 
tor, every way qualified for the important sphere of 
usefulness, which so large and populous a town pre- 
sented. But on the mind of Mr. Spencer far other 
impressions had been unhappily produced. From 
whatever sources he had drawn his information of 
the state of religion and manners in this place, it 
was certain! v most incorrect— 3nd such as led him 
to anticipate his visit with feelings of considerable 
uneasiness and reluctance. Nor did he seem at all 
anxious to conceal the fact, that his coming was the 
consequence of a necessity, to which lie was compel- 
led to bow. So deep was his prejudice against Liv- 
erpool, that it seems to have caused the only excep- 
tion to that uniform submission with which he yield- 
ed to the arrangements made by his constituents for 
his labors* But on this occasion, he did not hesitate 
frankly to assure a gentleman, who meeting him in 
London, expressed a hope, that they should soon 
have the pleasure of seeing him in Liverpool, that "it 
was not his wish to see Liverpool- — and that although 
the committee had appointed him to go, he should 
do all in his power to prevail upon them to send 
some other student." 

But a visit upon which so much depended, and 
whence such amazing consequences were to flow, 
could not be abandoned by a superintending Provi- 



W6 

dence, to the obstacles of his prejudices, or the ia- 
fluence of his feelings. His destination was fixed — • 
It was the voice of duty, and he obeyed. He arriv- 
ed in Liverpool on Saturday, the SOlh of June, 181Q, 
and commenced his public labors on the following 
Sabbath. 

Mr. Spencer selected for the subject of his first 
discourse, Luke xxiv, 32, "And they said one to 
another, did not our Hearts burn within m % while he 
talked with us by the ivay aid while he opened to us 
the scriptures"* In the afternoon he preached from 
Heb* xii, 24, "And to the blood of sprinkling, which 
speaketh better things than the blood of Abel" And 
in the evening from 1 Cor. xv, 25. "For he must 
reign till he hath put all enemies wider his feet. 

The impression produced by the labors of this 
Sabbath will be long remembered. The emotion 
then awakened has not subsided to this day. Every 
sermon that he preached tended to deepen the con- 
viction of his piety and talents — and to endear him 
to the people. His lively, affectionate manner, and 
the simple but elegant style of his discourses, capti- 
vated all who heard him. Every sermon produced 
accessions to the congregation of such as, drawn by 
the report of his extraordinary powers, pressed to 
witness their display. The chapel soon became 
crowded to excess — and not alone the thoughtless 
and the gay, whom the charms of a persuasive elo- 
quence and an engaging manner might attract, but 
pious and experienced Christians sat at his feet with 
deep attention and delight. There seemed to be in- 
deed a shaking amongst the dry bones. A divine 
unction evidently attended his ministry, and such 

* See Appendix, No. III. 



167 

were the effects produced, that every beholder, with 
astonishment and admiration, cried 'what hath God 
wrought! 5 

Jn his own views of Liverpool, too 5 a great change 
% as wrought by the remarkable circumstances at- 
tendant on his ministry. The kind assiduities cf the 
family under whose hospitable roof he resided, and 
an intercourse with the pious part of the congrega- 
tion, which they carefully promoted, tended gradu- 
ally to weaken his prejudices, and at length com- 
pletely to turn the bias, and reverse the purpose of 
his mind. The period of his stay was limited to five 
Sabbaths; but at the earnest solicitation of the peo- 
ple, he consented, after communicating with his 
friends in London, to add another to the number. 
And in the afternoon of the last Sabbath, he preach- 
ed from Deut. xxxiii, 3, 'Yea, he loved the people*' 
in such a style of endearment and affection, as seem- 
ed to warrant the indulgence of their warmest hopes. 
The last week of his visit was spent in the most de- 
lightful intercourse with Christian friends; and on 
Tuesday, the 7th of August, he left Liverpool with 
reluctance and tears. 

The following extracts are from his correspond 
dence while at Liverpool. 

No. 27. 

ro MR. IIAJ>DO¥. 

Liverpool, July -3d, 1810. 

4i MY BEAU FHIEND, 

* #■ * * # 

a I had a most uncomfortable journey. The 
distance was so great the company so disagreeable. 



168 

and I so low spirited, that I can truly say, I never 
travelled in such misery before. When I arrived at 
Manchester, there was no one to meer me at the 
coach. No one expected me. After a great deal 
cf trouble I found out Mr. Smith's house, and I shall 
always feel indebted to him for the kindness with 
which he received me, though unexpected, and for 
the hospitality with which he entertained me till Sat- 
urday morning, when I left Manchester for Liver- 
pool And say you, what are your sentiments about 
that? — I freely tell you then, that I thin i it is an ex- 
cellent town, &c. &c*; but I had rather anyone 
should be here supplying than myself, a id I long for 

the time when I shall leave for Hoxton* 

w •&? "& w ■& 

"Depend upon it, if possible, I will set off for 
London on Monday, July 30th; I wish it were to- 
morrow — but perhaps I do wrong in complaining. 
May you enjoy the presence of Him who has shut 
me up from the society of my beloved companions 
for a time, perhaps that I might seek more earnestly 
after his own. 

"I remain, 

4i Your's affectionately, 

"Thomas Spencety^ 

No. 28. 

to :mr. habdon, 

Liverpool, July 17, 18i'Q. 

4< MY DEAR FRIEND, 

"I suppose you have been looking for a letter 
for a day or two past from your friend at Liverpool, 
so here it is come at la&t. I did not preach at Man- 



169 

Chester, for notice had been given the Sabbath be- 
fore, that there would be no preaching there the next 

Wednesday evening — nor have I been to •. I 

saw no one from his house when I was at Manches- 
ter, nor have I heard anything from him since: most 
likely I shall not see him at all. In fact I have quite 
visiting enough among the people of the congre- 
gation. 

7N" TfC ^S" 7f\ Tfs 

"Here are some excellent people, very pious, and 
zealous for the honor of God, and the good of im- 
mortal souls, in this town. With some of them I 
shall be almost sorry to part. 

' "Last Sunday evening I preached the sermon for 
■Hex ton; we collected about 40/. The place I preach- 
in is called JYewington ChapeL I forget the name of 
the street it stands in. There are many more dis- 
senting places of worship here than you seem aware 
of. I am not yet certain whether I stay six Sabbaths* 

"Mr. has written me a long and pressing let* 

tei for me to go to Plymouth Dock, which he says 
is jukt the thing for me — -he wishes me to settle there 
— gives an exceeding high character of the place. 
According to his request I must write to him soon, 
but I scarce know in what manner. It is a large 
congregation, and be says, that there is there 'ahuge 
army of the soldiers of the cross. ' 

"I will Lake care to get you a plan of the town, I 
hear that a fire has consumed Huntingdon's chapel 
in Tichfieid street— is it true? Dr. W. has written 
to me, requesting me to supply New Court the first 
Sabbath in August. 

"The Wednesday after I wrote to you, I preach- 
ed on Psalm lxi 2 C Following Sabbath— morning, 
Colos. iii, 3; afternoon, John x, 9; evening, Job 
15 



17© 

xxx vi, 18* The next Wednesday evening, Gal. iv, 
7. Last Sabbath morning, Zech. vi, 13: afternoon* 
the same concluded: evening, Zech. iii, 7. Mon- 
day evening, at the prayer meetings, I either go over 
the outline of one of the sermons preached the day 
before, or else give a short exhortation, as at Hoxton* 

"I suppose you know that 1 have written to D* 

C but not to Mr. B-r— « . For the fact is, I had 

rather not. I do not know how, and I do not see 
that it would do any good, so must decline it. lam 
out almost every day. Oh why should people be 
afraid to let me be alone; why will they not let me 
enjoy my much-loved solitvide! On several accounts 
1 feel anxious to get home; and can now indeed say, 
6 Hoxton, with all thy faults, I love thee still.' 

"Present my respects to all our friends in town. 
Give me as much intelligence as you can in your 
next, and believe me still 

"Your sincere friend, 

"Thomas Spencer. v 

Very soon after his return to Hoxton, Mr. Spen- 
xer received from the church and congregation at 
Newington chapel, an unanimous and pressing invi- 
tation to accept the pastoral office over them. The 
call was dated on the 8th of August, 1810. After 
near seven weeks deliberation, Mr. Spencer return- 
ed an answer in the affirmative. In what exercises 
of mind these seven w 7 eeks were spent, those who 
knew the peculiar circumstances of his situation can 
well conceive. On the one hand, — the unanimous 
request of a people to whom God had directed him 
contrary to his wish, and to whom he had become 
singularly endeared: — the imperious call of duty to 
a sphere of action for which his talents seemed ev- 



If I 

ery way adapted, in which his labors had been already 
remarkably successful, and which promised most 
extensive usefulness. These were circumstances of 
no common magnitude. ' But on the other hand, 
there were many powerful ties to bind him to the 
neighborhood of the metropolis. His family — his 
best friendships — his most endeared connexions — ■ 
the scenes of his early and honorable labors — all con- 
spired in the prospect of his removal to so great a 
distance, to awaken the most painful and distressing -, 
feelings in his mind.— And resolutely to resist the 
importunities of friends, the value of whose society 
we fully know— to rise superior to those local attach- 
ments which long and happy intercourse cannot fail" 
to form— and to leave the circle to which time and 
frequent interchange of sentiment have rendered 
us familiar and endeared, for a land of strangers— 
involve a sacrifice which only the voice of duty can 
demand, or the hope of usefulness repays Yet such 
are the sacrifices which the Christian minister must 
frequently be called to make; and whilst on his part 
they are with cheerfulness surrendered to the call of 
duty, and the cause of Christ, let those in whose par- 
ticular behalf they are claimed, seek by every affec- 
tionate office of friendship, to. blunt the edge of sep- 
aration, and relieve as much as may be by kindness, 
the memory of distant friendships and endeared 
connexions. 

I insert a copy of Mr, Spencer's answer to the 
call which he received from the church and congre- 
gation at Newington; as it will afford to the reader 
an additional opportunity of obtaining an acquain- 
tance with its amiable author, 



172 



No. 29. 



To the Independent Church of Christy assembling m 
Neivington Chape/, Liverpool. 

* 

4l MY CHRISTIAN FRIENDS, 

"Being unwilling to keep you any longer in 
suspense than is absolutely necessary, upon the im- 
portant subject of my settlement with a church and 
congregation, I feel it my duty to reply to your 
obliging and respectful invitation. You are well 
aware, that I came amongst you influenced- by the 
strongest prejudices against the place, and resolutely 
determined never to think of it as a sphere calculated 
for me. Whilst I was amongst you, however, sev- 
eral circumstances united to remove the strength of 
my prejudices, and I trust to make me^ determined 
by every appointed and lawful means to ascertain the 
will of God, and when ascertained, cheerfully to ful- 
fil it, however opposed it might be to my private 
wishes and inclinations. A review of the partial de- 
gree of success with which my labors in Liverpool 
were honored, does afford me considerable pleasure, 
and I must say, that I speak the real sentiments of 
my heart when I confess, that the manner in which 
you, my respected friends and brethren in the gospel, 
have conducted this important affair, has raised you 
exceedingly in my esteem, and given me to believe, 
that a preacher would find among you as a people, 
those motives to diligence and those sources of real 
happiness in the prosecution of his work, which, alas! 
are denied to many a faithful minister gf the New 
Testament* 






173 

"When I regard ) r ou as a church and congrega* 
tion, I feel anxiously concerned for your spiritual 
and eternal welfare, and indeed earnestly desire, if 
consistent with the good pleasure of His will, the 
great Head of the Church would make use of me to 
build you up in faith and holiness; but my motives 
for thinking favorably of your invitation arise also 
from other sources. I look at the state of thousands 
of inhabitants in that vast town, to many of whom I 
hope to be the instrument of conveying the 'joyful 
sound;' my soul longs that they may receive the sal« 
vation which is in Jesus Christ, with eternal glory P 
and influenced I have reason to believe by the direc- 
tion of my God, I resolve to preach among them the' 
unsearchable riches of Christ. 

"I assure you, my fellow travellers to Zioti, I can 
observe, with admiration, peculiarities in thisdispen* 
sation which never before struck me in reference to 
any other situation. Oh may it appear, that this 
work and this counsel is of God! 

"Some difficulties must be met, and some sacri- 
fices must be made, by me, when I leave the scenes 
of my former exertions in the cause of Christ, for the 
sake of the people at Newington. But these are 
things which I must ever expect; these are circum- 
stances which I resolved should never move me, 
when I first gave myself to God and His Christ! 

"Truly believing then that lam acting under the 
direction of an all wise Jehovah, and humbly asking. 
that this may be made manifest in after days, / ac- 
cept the invitation you have given me to exercise 
over you the pastoral office. — I comply with your 
unanimous request, and shall from this day consider 
myself as solemnly bound to you, if you see it right 
to allow me the following requisitions:—* 
15* 



174 

"That I preach among you regularly but twice m 
the Sabbath^ viz. morning and evening. I mention 
this because I know that my constitution will not 
admit of three services in the day, and 1 am sure it 
is- not consistent with your wishes, that I should pre- 
vent myself from future exertions by presuming on 
too much at first; and the plan I propose will I am 
persuaded after trial prove beneficial rather than in- 
jurious to the cause at Newington. To preaching 
to you twice on the Sabbath and once in the week, 
I shall never feel the least objection. My other 
wish is — 

Ci That I may have in the spring of the year six 
weeks annually to myself, to visit my friends, and 
occasionally see other parts of the Lord's vineyard. 

"I do not leave Hoxton academy till after Christ- 
mas, and perhaps may not be with you so early as you 
wish. — It is my intention, however, to commence 
my labors among you, if convenient to yourselves, 
on the first Sabbath in February, 1811. Your senti- 
ments on the subjects, I have mentioned, you will 
be pleased to communicate to me as early as pos- 
sible. 

"And now just allow- me, my respected friends, to 
request }ou not to form too sanguine expectations 
in reference to the pleasure you expect to enjoy 
when I become your pastor. You will doubtless 
find in me much to piiy and to blame; yet it is my r 
earnest prayer that you may never have to charge 
me with neglect in watching ovei you in the Lord; 
fintfMy, I request your supplications for me at the 
throne of the heavenly Majesty , that a door of utter- 
ance may be opened unto me, that on me the com- 
munications of divine grace may ever be bestowed, 
that Christ jpay be magnifiecj by my preaching and 



vm 

my life, that I may be preserved faithful unto deatb P 
and then receive a crown of life. 

"Accept my cordial wishes for the prosperity of 
your own souls, of your families, but especially of 
your Christian hociety and of the cause of Zion 
amongst you. Cease not to pray solemnly, fervent- 
ly r and without intermission, for me, and believe me 
your's in our glorious Lord, 

"Thomas Spencer. 5 * 

Hoxton, Sept. 26, 1810, 

This official communication to the church was ac- 
companied by a private letter to the friend, under 
whose roof he had resided during his occasional visits 
and to whose care the preceding, document was ad- 
dressed. 

No. 30. 

Hoxton College, Sept. I& 

:x UY DEAR SIR, 

"If you wish immediately to know the purport 
®f my enclosed answer to the respectful and pressing I 
invitation I have received from Newington, turn to 
the 22d verse of the Episile to Philemon. 

**I hope you will forgive me for the long, the 
doubtful suspense, in which I have been obliged to 
detain you; in my own view I have acted rightly, 
and I have no doubt but you will say that it was all 
proper, when you come to hear my statement. It 
is astonishing what I have had to meet with through 
the kindness of my London friends — kindness you 
will think improperly manifested, when I tellr you, 
that they, with very few exceptions, entreat, beg ? 



176 

and request, that I would not settle at Liverpool. I 
can only tell them, that in this affair, 

'I hear a voice they cannot hear; 
<I see a hand they cannot see. 9 

And have the leadings of Providence lost their im- 
portance? or the direction of Heaven become mere- 
ly matter of idle talk? I have not written individual- 
ly to any person in Liverpool besides yourself: I 
should have found a difficulty in speaking of the 
business before I had made known my determination. 
■By the first Sabbath in February next year, I shall 
(God willing) he again in Liverpool, when I hope 
the presence of my covenant God will accompany 
me, and his Spirit grant me wide success. The 
prospect of leaving my friends and connexions for 
so distant a place as Liverpool, and especially as 
many of them oppose the plan, ..sometimes fill me 
with melancholy gloom; but *thy will be done' is a 
petition that well becomes me in my situation, may 
I have grace given- me to use it with, a sincere and 
believing heart. 

* # #■ * * 

"I trust it will appear, that the general good of the 
church of Christ, and of the inhabitants of Liverpool, 
is the object to which I have directed my warm and 
unremitting exertions. Farewell. 

U I remain sincerely your's, 

"Thomas Spencer.' 3 

To this may be added an extract from a letter, 
dated September 1st, 1810. 

44 My mind still inclines to Liverpool, and that for 
the most substantial reasons. If I accept this invita* 



177 

fcion, I shall be obliged to make some sacrifices; but 
ought I not to make them cheerfully, when the hon- 
or of God, and the happiness of immortal souls re- 
tpjire them? especially as I am bound not to coum 
even my life dear unto me, so that I may finish may 
course with joy. The sacrifices to which I allude 
are chiefly, perhaps altogether, occasioned by ab- 
sence from my friends and connexions^ and a remov- 
al from those interesting scenes of exertion which 
have witnessed my first efforts to disseminate divine 
truth, and in which I have been favored with some 
success. 

Thus happily was a point of so much importance 
to the interests of religion in Liverpool determined* 
A consideration of the issue of this affair, together 
with many others perpetually occurring, should 
teach us to suspend our judgments of persons and 
places we have never seen — and should tend to 
weaken those unjust and injurious prejudices against 
them which we too hastily form—too tenaciously 
cherish. Often we picture to ourselves the most en- 
chanting scenes, the most delightful associations, in 
connexion with a spot we are about to visit,. and are 
disappointed — -and as often we find those charming 
scenes, and happy associations, in regions which our 
prejudices had invested with every thing gloomy and 
repulsive. Had Spencer yielded to the impulse of 
bis fet lings, he had never become pastor of a church 
in Liverpool. And although the memory of his la* 
mented fate may induce, from feelings generally re* 
garded as honorable to humanity, a wish that he had 
not— yet the Christian sees in this the hand of God 
—and, contemplating the mighty work which in his 
short ministry he was honored to perform, rejoices 
that, however mysterious the decree, it was ordered 



• 178" 

so, It is not for us to calculate whether he would 
have been mvre useful, or less useful, or as useful 
elsewhere — he was eminently useful in Liverpool — * 
and though all must weep that he should be so soon, 
so suddenly removed— yet none who witness the ex- 
traordinary impression which his labors produced in 
so large and populous a town, but must rejoice in 
their success, and adore the Providence which 
brought him there. 

Nor was it from the want of other calls that Mr, 
Spencer was induced to accept that which he receiv 
ed from Liverpool* Many were the churches which 
desired to enjoy his valuable ministry; amongst oth- 
ers, the following places may be xmmz&-~~Kidderminr 
ster, Kentish Town, Jewm-street^ Worthing, South* 
ampton, and Tonhridge ChapeL 

This last-mentioned chapel is a recently erected 
building, in the New Road leading from Pentoa- 
ville to Paddington, near London— in a populous, re- 
spectable, and increasing neighborhood. During its 
erection, an impression was encouraged, both on Mr. 
Spencer ? s mind and that of the surrounding inhabi* 
tants,that he would probably be the preacher* The 
idea was not at all unpleasant to him. In most re- 
spects the arrangement met his wishes; and he had 
even laid the plan on which he resolved to act, pro- 
vided his expectations had been icatizecL He pur* 
posed to reside a few miles out of town, to prevent 
the dissipation of his time, and to come to London 
on certain days to visit his people. He expected 
much gratification from the neighborhood of his 
friend and fellow-student, the R>v, S. Haslock, min- 
ister of Kentish Town chapel, with whom he hoped 
to unite in plans of usefulness for their vicinity. But 



179 

circumstances did not conspire to call into exercise 
those judicious and benevolent designs. 

The chapel was opened early in November 1810; 
and on Sunday, the 18th, he preached his first ser- 
mon there. It was in allusion to its recent opening, 
founded on Heh.x, 19 — 22* After the congregation 
was dismissed, he went over the whole building, the 
plan of which pleased him much. He was particu- 
larly delighted with the deep front gallery, which by 
exhibiting a multitude of attentive laces, encouraged 
him, he said, in his preaching. In that chapel he fre- 
quently addressed large and deeply interested audi- 
tories — and in that pulpit a public tribute of respect 
was paid to his memory in a funeral sermon, deliver- 
ed by the Rev. Richard Slate, minister of Stand, near 
Manchester.^ - 

From the period of his acceptance of the call to 
Liverpool, till February, 18.11, when he actually en- 
tered on the pastoral office there, his time was wholly 
occupied in the diligent pursuit of his studies, and 
the labors of il.o pulpit. Not a. Sabbath passed, but 
witnessed twice or thrice his faithful publication of 
the gospel of peace. On Sunday, the 26th of Au- 
gust, he revisited Dorking— a spot endeared to him 
.by the beauty of its scenery— but more by the mem- 
ory of those happy hours, which introduced him to 
the knowledge and esteem of a most beloved and vaU ; 
ued friend. 

The first Sabbath in November he spent at Brigh- 
ton, where he preached three times in the pulpit of 
the Rev. Mr, Stiles. 



_j burning 

and a shining light. 9 It was afterwards published— and has readied a second 
edition. The sentiments it breathes are honorable to the author's character as 
a man 3 a Christian, and a friend. 



18® 

Returning to town be -continued preaching in and 
about London till the close of the year, when he 
again visited Brighton at which place he entered on 
the year 1811 — the last of his life. 

In what way his mind was exercised during this 
period— and how his principles as a Christian tri- 
umphed over his feelings as a man in the prospect of 
a long and painful separation from those he loved— 
may be seen by the following letter to a friend in 
Liverpool:— 

:No, 31. 

Hoxto?t } Dec. 5, 1816, 

"MY BEAR SIR, 

"I am persuackd that you will excuse my 
neglecting to write to you so long, when you recol- 
lect that the hope I daily entertained of seeing you 
in town appeared to represent my troubling you with 
an epistle as unnecessary. I am extremely pleased 
to hear of the increase and welfare of your family; 
I cannot but feel an interest in their prosperity and 
happiness: may the Lord pour his Spirit upon your 
seed, and his biasing upon your offspring, that they 
may spring up as among the grass, as willows by the 
water courses! I suppose I need not inform you, that 
I anticipate my journey to Liverpool with mingled 
emotions of mind. The idea of a long and painful 
separation from my connexions does certainly at 
times overwhelm me with melancholy gloom; 1 have 
not yet learned to conquer my feelings, nor arn I 
particularly eminent for philosophic heroism. The 
idea that I am going where divine Providence has 
directed ine, does occasionally impart to me strong 
consolation; may my wishes as to extensive useful- 



131 

-ness among you be answered; may they be exceed- 
ed in the prosperity of the church and congregation, 
and in the increase of spirituality ar^i holy enjoy- 
ment in my own soul! 

.-"I am glad you are successful in getting accepta- 
ble supplies; this is a point which should be attended 
to. I should like the congregation to have the best 
of preachers. My books, &c. I must send from 
London before Christmas day, that I may have no 
trouble with them after my return from Brighton. 

"I am extremely happy in the prospect of being 
with your family on my first entrance into Liverpool; 
it will be far superior to my being with strangers* 
This half year has been a trying one as to preaching 
engagements, both on Sabbaths and on week-days, 
I continue supplying Hoxton, and the New Chapel, 
Somer's Town, till Christmas; the day after Christ- 
mas day I hope to go to Brighton, to stay there 
three Sabbaths, and to return on the 17th of Jan- 
uary, to supply Roydon, and Hertford the next 
week; and the last Sabbath in January, to take my 
leave of this part of the kingdom by two sermons at 
Hoxton. 

# 3£ & m & 

"Tell our friends at Newington chapel that I am 
tolerably well, and wish to be kindly remembered to 
them. Farewell, my valued friend. 
"I am sincerely your's, 

"Thomas Spencer. 55 

The purposes expressed in this letter were accom- 
plished according to the order in which they are stat- 
ed. He visked Brighton, and preached on the last 
Sabbath of the old year three times, at Mr. Style's 
chapel — in the evening a sermon adapted to .he Sea- 
16 



182 

eon, from 1 John ii, 17, 'And the world passeth axvay, 
and the lust thereof; but he that doeth the will of God 
abideth forevevP On the evening of the 1st of Jan- 
uary, 1811, he preached an appropriate discourse at 
the Countess of Huntingdon's chapel; and on the foL 
lowing Thursday, and three times on the Sunday, 
he preached at Mr. Styles'. On the Monday even- 
ing, being the first Monday in the month, the mis- 
sionary prayer meeting was held in Brighton, when 
he delivered a most animated and impressive address 
from Matt, xiii, 16- — 17, 'Blessed are your eyes for 
they see, and your ears for they hear; for verily I say 
unto you, that many prophets and righteous men have 
desired to see those things which ye see, and have not 
seen them; and to hear those things which ye hear, and 
have not heard them? He continued another Sab- 
bath in Brighton, and left that place some time in 
the following week. Passing through London, he 
went into Hertfordshire. On Sunday, January the 
510th, he preached at Roy don, morning and afternoon, 
and at Hodde&don in the evening. On the Tuesday 
evening he preached at Hertford, and slept again un- 
der his paternal roof. On Wednesday evening he 
preached at Stansted, and on Thursday evening again 
at Hertford. This was I believe, his last visit to his 
native town, and to his father's house! The separa- 
tion which then again took place between himself 
and his beloved family was final. The farewell 
which he bade to the scenes of his infancy and child- 
hood was eternal! I cannot suppress the melancholy 
feeling which this reflection has awakened in my 
mind. 1 am arrived at length upon the eve of a 
mournful detail, which all along I have anticipated with 
emotions of distress. Alas! that one so useful should 
:bc so soon removed! And that ere we enter on the 



183 

solemn engagements of his pastoral life, we should 
be compelled to notice circumstances so closely con- 
nected with his death! 

The following Sabbath, January 27th, Was the last 
he spent in London. On that clay he preached in the 
morning at Hoxton chapel, from Phil, iii, 8, 'Yea h 
doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the 
excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my 
Lord* And in the evening at Tonbridge chapel, 
from 2 Cor. iv, 3, 'But if our Gospel be hid, it 
is hid to them that are lost.' The labors of this Sab- 
bath completed his engagements at Hoxton and Ton- 
bridge chapels; but on the evening of the following 
day (Monday) he took an affectionate leave of his be- 
loved friends—the constituients — -the tutors— the stu* 
dents — and the congregation at Hoxton, trom the 
pulpit of that chapel. The crowd that pressed to 
hear his last sermon (for so it proved) in London 
was immense. One common sentiment of attachment 
and grief seemed to prevade the assembly. A friend 
charged him on that occasion not to play upon the 
passions. Not that he was in the habit of doing this; 
but there appeared on this occasion a probability that 
he might. To that suggestion he replied— that 
"neither his feelings nor his conscience would admit 
of such trifling." He addressed the people on this 
interesting occasion from those memorable words of 
Paul — Acts xx, 21, 'But none of these things move 
me, neither count I my life dear unto me, so that I 
may finish my course with joy, and the ministry which 
I have received of the Lord Jesus.* 

Thus were Spencer's labors in the metropolis clos- 
ed forever — labors — the renewal qi which thousands 

. ^See Appendix, N& IV, 



184 

anticipated with delight. But he was ripening fast 
for glory — and rapidly advancing to the termination 
of his course. Yea, the impression of his excel- 
lence — the feeling of regret at his departure— was 
yet strong and lively in the hearts of many, when 
the tidings, of his death shed a deeper sorrow through 
the scenes and circles which he had edified by his 
public instructions, or enlivened by his private 
friendship! 

It was on the 28ih of January, that Mr. Spencer 
preached his farewell sermon at Hoxton chapel— 
and it was on the 15th of August, in the same year, 
in the same pulpit — and to nearly the same congre- 
gation — that his funeral sermon was delivered by the 
Rev. Henry Forster \Burder, one of the tutors of the 
academy. In that discourse a just and elegant trib- 
ute was paid to the mingled piety and talent which 
formed the charm of his ministry. From the known 
endowments of tbe preacher, and from the opportu- 
nities which he enjoyed of obtaining a correct esti- 
mate of Mr. Spencer's powers, that tribute must de- 
rive considerable propriety and force: and as it chief- 
ly regards his ministerial labors in London, I shall 
close these imperfect memoirs of them with an ex- 
tract from it. 

"During the last two years of our valuable friend's 
residence at Hoxton, he was very frequently engag- 
ed in preaching in London and its vicinity. As 
this chapel has been, on many occasions, the scene 
of his labors, and has been often thronged with the 
multitudes attracted by his abilities and piety, I 
need scarcely attempt an estimate of his pulpit tal- 
ents. That they were eminent — that they were 
brilliant — that they were captivating — will not, I 
think, be denied by any who witnessed their exhibi- 



185 

lion. He undoubtedly displayed no small degree of 
pulpit eloquence, and his eloquence was distinguish- 
ed by characteristic features. It was not the kind 
of eloquence in which a youth of genius might be 
expected most to excel, and of which luxuriance of 
imagination constitutes the chief attraction; it was 
not a peculiar vivacity of fancy, which gave life to 
his addresses, although in this respect they were not 
deficient; but they rather ovved their effect to the 
energy and animation infused by the ardor of his 
soul, and to the unaffected fervor of his religious 
feelings, the impression of which was aided by no 
small advantages of person, voice, and elocution. In 
endeavoring rightly to appreciate his qualifications 
for the duties of the Christian ministry, I must not 
omit to notice the truly edifying manner in which 
he conducted the devotional exercises of the pulpit. 
His gift in prayer was peculiarly excellent. The 
language of his petitions seemed to breathe the ar- 
dent aspirations of a heart alive to God, and accus- 
tomed to enjoy fellowship with the Father, and with 
his Son Jesus Christ."* 

That he was maturing fast for the enjoyment of 
his reward, even when he left London to commence 
his pastoral engagements, is a conviction indelibly 
impressed upon the minds of those who wer^ accus- 
tomed to attend his preaching, or mingle in his so- 
ciety. They remember certain expressions, both of 
countenance and language, which seemed to indi- 
cate a tone of piety — a spirituality of feeling— too 
exalted for a long continuance here. And it is to 

* See a Sermon delivered in Hoxton chapel, on the death of the Rev. T. 
Spencer, by the Rev. Henry Forster Border, M. A. one of the tutors of th« 
Hoxton Academy — page 32, 

*]6 



186 

be regrttte J, that such expressions, at the time so 
powerful in their influence, and so carefully pre- 
served by a tenacious memory, no pen— no pencil 
can portray. Hence the sermons of animated and 
ex temporary preachers, when introduced to us from 
the press, lose half their force and beauty. The 
scope of the discourse — the process of the argument 
■ — -may be Indeed preserved; but the unpremeditated, 
momentary flashes of holy fervor, and of brilliant 
genius, cpnnot. The eloquence of the eye — the ex- 
pression of the countenance— -the meaning which is 
sometimes thrown into every limb and muscle of 
the frame— are wanting. And though 'tis pleasing 
to possess a memorial of those, whom living we re- 
vered and loved, yet the imperfection of the copy 
only deepens our regret at the loss of the original. 
In ihe y caching of Spencer, it seemed as though he 
saw before him every object lie described — and felt 
the full force — -the vast importance of every subject 
upon which he spoke. 

Preaching one evening at Back-street, Horsley- 
Down, and speaking of the reward of the faithful 
gospel minister, "Methinks," said he, "I already 
hear the melodious accents of the Savior's voice, 
saying ^W ell done, good and faithful servant % enter 
into the joy of thy Lord." It was remarked, that he 
appeared as though he heard a voice personally ad- 
dressing him. His anticipation was in a very few 
months realized! 

Anxious for the usefulness and variety of his 
ministry, he begged of his friend, upon his leaving 
Lonch n, to send him any useful pamphlets or works 
.which might come out; "Let me know," said he, 
"when popular ministers are in town — the texts 



1ST 

they take for particular occasions — -festivals, Sec. the 
settling or removal of my fellow students," &c. 

The last time he was with his friend alone, prior 
to his setting eft' for Liverpool, their approaching 
separation was, as may he well imagined, the topic 
of discourse— -when, with his own peculiar affection 
and energy, he said— 

"Through Christ when we together came. 

In singleness of heart, 
We met, O Jesus! in thy name; 

And in thy name we part. 

We part in body, not in mind, 

Our minds continue one; 
And each to each, in Jesus join ? d ? 
• We happily go on. 

Present in spirit still we are, 

And intimately nigh; 
While on the wings of faith and prayer. 

We Abba! Father! cry. 

O may thy Spirit, dearest Lord, 

In all our travels still 
Direct and be our constant guard 

To Zlon's holy hill, 

Oh! what a joyful meeting, there, 

Beyond these changing shades: 
White are the robes we then shall wear. 

And crowns upon our heads. 

Haste, Lord, and bring 1 us to the day 

When we shall dwell at home, 
Come, O Redeemer, come away; 

O Jesus quickly come." 

On Sunday, 3d of February, 1811, Mr. Sperivu. 
commenced his stated, pastoral labors at Newington 



188 

chapel, Liverpool. He was then just twenty years 
of age— -possessed of every endowment that could 
render him eminent as a minister — and every amia- 
ble disposition that could endear him as a friend. 
The people of his charge, together with numbers 
who participated with them in their joy, hailed his 
entrance on his sacred duties with delight* From 
him they fondly anticipated a long series of varied 
and useful instructions — on him they gazed with 
admiration, as affording them no mean example of 
a holy and devoted life — and to him they looked 
with pleasure as their children's friend. That he 
was prepared to meet these high expectations, none 
who have contemplated the superior endowments of 
his mind can, for a moment, doubt — his literary 
attainments, though not splendid, were respectable 
—his theological knowledge was considerable — his 
acquaintance with mankind indeed was scanty; he 
had only moved amongst the excellent of the earth; 
but this, while it might expose him to certain incon- 
veniences, gave him this advantage — that he appear- 
ed in all the native ingenuousness of unsuspecting 
youth. His love of study was great, which insured 
a constant supply of interesting materials for his pub- 
lic ministry — whilst he possessed a facility, an ease, 
an elegance, in the communication of his thoughts, 
displayed by few. To all these, he added the graces 
of the Spirit in no common degree — the glorious 
attributes of a soul eminently devoted to God — a sol- 
emn awe of his sacred office — an habitual reference 
to the final account he should be called to render — 
and an ardent zeal for the Redeemer's glory! — Such 
was Spencer when he entered on the duties of his 
stated ministry! 



189 

But I shall justify this sketch of his character by 
some extracts from his letters. 

fa one dated Brighton, January the Qch, 1811, he 
says — 

"I dread the termination of the happiness I now 
enjoy. It will be the commencement of a long and 
agonizing separation. Oh! that henceforth I may 
live more devotedly to God than I have ever yet done. 
I can truly say this is my desire; for to be a preacher 
of the gospel, and not to feel its due abiding influence 
on the heart, is awful indeed. Since I have been 
here I have trembled for myself, when I have recol- 
lected the numerous follies of the four years I have 
spent at Hoxton. The Lord pardon me, and teach 
me {o be more holy. Pray for me. Affectionately 
your's,- " 

Mr. Spencer is certainly a striking-example of what 
some persons are unwilling to admit — the possibility 
of a close and humble walk with God, even amid the 
snares and temptations of an academy. That in col- 
leges, even the best regulated, temptations to levity 
exist, cannot be denied. Where many young men 3 
of a lively turn of mind, are associated, it must be so* 
But al/hough such a spirit may be partially, and at 
intervals encouraged— yet where there is true piety, 
the mind will be elevated above their habitual influ- 
ence, and occasional instances of failure will excite 
to diligence for the future, whilst they awaken deep 
regret and poignant sorrow for the past. If to this 
there was a natural tendency in Spencer's constitu- 
tion, how sweetly is the influence of better principles- 
displayed in the humility with which he confesses 
and deplores his error. If upon this page the eye of 
% cold, phlegmatic^ stern professor should dwell, let- 



100 

it not be averted in disgust, when it beholds this 
amiable youth's confession of an error, of a tempta- 
tion to which he is incapable — and to others, if such 
there be, who happy to discover in such a character, 
any thing like the shadow of a fault, should be pre- 
paring to pronounce z censorious and malignant 
judgment, I would say — 'Let him that is without sin 
cast thejirst stone. 7 

The following letter was written the day after his 
arrival in Liverpool. 

No. 32. 

TO MB. JOHN HADDON. 

Liverpool^ February 2d y 1811* 
"my dear friend, 

<4 I am safely arrived at the scene of my future 
labors. My journey, though long, was far less irk- 
some than any one I have before undertaken. The 
roads were bad; this made us late in our arrival at 
Liverpool. We did not reach it till a quarter before 
twelve last night. The short time that I have yet 
spent here has been quite pleasant— it has beta hap- 
py. The serious people of the congregation have 
already paid me many kind and Christian attentions. 
With the blessing of the Master whom I serve, I ex- 
pect to-morrow to spend a very delightful Sabbath. 
My best feelings for the glory of our Lord, and the 
increase of his kingdom, will I hope be more strongly 
excited than ever they have yet been. I cannot but 
think that the Head of the Church has some great 
work to accomplish in Liverpool, and the desire of 
my heart is that I may be the instrument employed 



101 

to effect it. Oh! for a large measure of the influence 
of the blessed Spirit to render me ardently pious ? and 
to keep me zealous in my endeavors to do good to 
souls. I know here are numbers who pray earnestly 
for me, and whilst these pious people besiege the 
throne of grace on my behalf, I will not fear that my 
God will desert me.-— To be holy and to be useful at 
this moment, appears to he the first wisn of my heart, 
Do you say, 'indulgent God, let it be accomplished!' 
"i am tired with my journey, and pressed for time. 
Believe me, in the bonds of Christian affection, 
"Sincerely your's, 

"Thomas Spencer." 

According to his anticipation, he did enjoy on the 
Sabbath a happy day, although in the morning he 
was considerably agitated by the peculiarly solemn 
circumstances of his new and most responsible situ- 
ation. In the morning his text was admirably adapt- 
ed to the occasion. — Gen. xxviii, 22-— 'And Jacob 
vowed a vow, saying, if God will be with me, and 
keep me in this way that I go, andyuill give me bread 
to eat and raiment to put on, so that I come again to 
my fathers house in peace; then shall the Lord be my 
God, and this stone which I have set up for a pillar, 
shall be God's house, and of all that thou shalt give me 
I will surely give the tenth unto theeS In the even- 
ing he preached from 1 Cor. xv, 49, — 'And as we 
have borne the image of the earthy, we shall also bear 
the image of the heavenly. ? In the course of the en* 
suing week, he wrote as follows; 



19 



No 33. 

Liverpool, Feb. 7, 1811. 
* Oh! what a memorable day to me was the 
first Sabbath I spent in this place; every circum- 
stance that took place appeared worthy of attention 
and big with events; never before had I entered a 
pulpit, with those awfui, solemn feelings with which 
I was impressed that morning. The klea of appear- 
ing in a new character, of entering on a station 
which I have no view of relinquishing till the day 
of my death; the weight of responsibility which at- 
taches to the ministerial character; the dread lest I 
should act in any way unworthy of my sacred office; 
all these things would naturally impart an unusual so- 
lemnity to the- mind. On that day heaven is my 
witness of the holy resolution I formed. Oh! that 
God may ever enable me to put them in execu- 
tion. 5 ? 

The attention which his labors had excited, while 
an occasional supply, was repeated, now that he had 
commenced his, stated ministry. Soon the chapel 
became again crowded to excess. The town was 
filled with his praise — the "most respectable of the 
inhabitants were perpetually disappointed in their 
attempts to hear him, not being in any way able to 
gain admittance to the chapel, so excessive was the 
throng. His coming seemed to be the commence- 
ment of a new era in the religious interests of Liv- 
erpool-— at least amongst the dissenters. The prej- 
udices of many were gradually subdued. The tone 
of public sentiment, with respect to that class of 
Christians, amongst whom he labored, considerably 
raised. Many, by no means anxious to conceal 



193 

their opposition to his principles, were compelled 
to pay a just, though reluctant tribute to the fascina- 
tions of his eloquence; and many whom the fame of 
that eloquence brought beneath the sound of his 
voice were savingly converted unto God; and of 
these, some are at this moment honorable members 
of the church of which he was the pastor. 

So far from being elated by his popularity, and 
rendered vain by the uncommon attention he excit- 
ed and received from all ranks: — every Sabbath, 
while he grew in public estimation, he seemed to 
sink in his own esteem, in humble acknowledgments 
of his own unworthinesss, and in a yet deeper sense 
of his awful obligations. The next is an extract of 
a letter to his father, 

No. 34." 

Liverpool, February '26, 181 L 
"I assure you I have every reason to believe, 
that this is the sphere in which Infinite Wisdom in- 
tends me to move. My congregation is vast every 
time I dispense the word of life. A general spirit of 
hearing seems excited in this large town—- the pros- 
pect is in every respect encouraging, and I am in- 
duced to hope, that great good will be done. I feel 
the awful responsibility that attaches to my employ- 
ment; and when I recollect the multitude of souls 
■commitred to my care, I tremble, and exclaim i Wh^ 
is sufficient for these things?' I often think how dif- 
ferent is my situation now, to what it was when I 
lived at my father's house. I am called to an active 
and laborious scene. Once it was enough for me 
just to execute your wishes, and then in the quiet 
enjoyment of our own family circle to experience 
17 



194 

satisfaction and comfort. Now God has blessed me 
by making me a blessing to others. May he pre- 
serve me faithful, and make me an honorable and 
vlioly Christian!" 

In another letter to his father, dated April the 9th, 
>1311 he says — 

"The interest excited in this town is still lively 

and great I trust much good is done. Prejudices 

are removed, convictions are impressed on the mind, 

and the cause of Satan appears to tremble under the 

influence of the doctrines of the Cross." 

This is indeed a portrait worthy the attention of 
the candidate for the Christian ministry— the student 
and the minister. It is charming to behold such ex. 
cellence, so universally applauded, veiled from its 
own observation by such deep humi'lity. Some have 
indulged in speculations on the probable influence of 
Spencer's popularity upon his character, had he been 
spared. It is possible that its influence might have 
been injurious; he was a man, though he was a Chris- 
iian. Bui it is ungenerous and unjust to his memo- 
ry to cherish any gloomy suspicions on the subject, 
when, long as he did live, he sustained the Chris- 
tian character with unsullied purity, and descended 
to the grave the same holy, humble, and devoted 
youth, as when emerging from the obscurity of his 
birth, the world first witnessed his unfolding powers. 

To the extracts already made, illustrative of his 
humility, I shall add another — which as it is without 
date, may be well introduced here. 



195 

No. 35. 

TO A MINISTER. 

"I have at length taken up my pen to return 
jbu my sincere acknowledgments for the lively inter- 
est you take in my welfare and happiness, and espec- 
ially for the excellent advice you have given me, as 
to the faithfulness of my preaching, and the circum- 
spection necessary in my conduct. Oh! never may 
1 be left to indifference in the statement of those glo- 
rious truths, which may well demand the glowing 
fervor of our souls, since their importance is declar- 
ed to us by the blood of the Lamb! May the same 
Savior be honored by my feeble ministrations, whom 
I know you delight to extol. You have been long" 
engaged in endeavoring to give Hi in a high place 
in the affections— and a throne in the hearts of the 
people. This, however, is a glorious cause, in 
which I have but lately embarked; yet may the same 
Holy Spirit, who has enabled the heralds of salva- 
tion in every age to testify of Jesus, make my tongue 
ever to tell his excellence, warm my heart to feel his 
love, and influence my conduct to show forth his 
praise! I think I hear you add, Amen!' 5 

The following is also without date: — 
No. 36. 
TO - — -= — 4 



Liverpool. 
"my dear friend, 

U I earnestly wish for you the support axel the 
care of our constant and unchangeable Friend 5 tha- 



196 

Lord Jesus Christ: every clay seems to convince me 
of the necessity and the happiness of a close walk with 
God: let us be always trusting in God, and praying 
to him, and there is no doubt but he will preserve 
and bless us. I was much pleased with an instance 
of resignation to the Divine Will, I lately met with. 
A pious and valuable member of our congregation 
lost his property to a considerable amount, by an 
alarming fire. I was with him soon after it happen- , 
ed, and it would have done you good to have beard 
him say, with so much calm and sacred acquiescence 
as he discovered, "The Lord gave, and the Lord 
hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord."- 
1 could not but wish that in all times of trial, I and 
my friends might have the same God to strengthen 
and fortify the mind as he had. Indeed you were 
mistaken my worthy friend, when you judged my 
letter to you an expression of joy at separation from 
my friends. No, No. There is not a heart in the 
world that feels more truly and sincerely on such oc- 
casions than my own; but I wish ever to remember 
the great object of my existence, and of my call to 
the ministry — not selfish ends but the glory of my 
God; and when he commands, whatever flesh and 
blood might suggest, or carnal wishes desire, I must 
immediately obey. It is this thought, and the per- 
suasion that I am employed in the vineyard of the 
Lord, just according to His will, that give me com- 
posure and peace of mind; and I can witness that 
prayer unloads and eases the mind as much at Liver- 
pool as any where else. Here I hope I have felt 
such salutary convictions of the awful responsibility 
of my work, as I never knew before, and as I hope I 
shall never forget; and happy am I to find, that here 
there are many of the Lord's jewels, his choicest fa- 



197 

vorites, many who call on the name of the Lord Jesus, 1 
both theirs and ours, out of a pure heart and faith 
unfeigned. In our prayer meeting, I have enjoyed 
a heaven begun below, and that kind of devotion 
which can well repay me for the sacrifices I have 
made* I suppose you have heard of the prospects 
of usefulness which open themselves before me: may 
Fhave grace to improve every hour of my time to 
the service of my God, and to maintain that holiness 
and integrity of conduct which will recommend the 
glorious gospel I proclaim. According to my ar- 
rangements, I expect to be in town in May. Re- 
member me affectionately to our friends. I often 
think of the pleasant opportunities we have enjoyed 
together, and often wish you resided here. Whenever 

you see Mr. H -, of W- , give my respects to 

him. I highly esteem him, because he discovers 
much of the image and spirit of Christ; and these are 
excellencies which must be loved by us, if we are 
Christians, wherever we find them. May the God 
of peace be with you, and ever keep you near him- 
self* Pray for me, that I may have all needful grace 
and assistance. Write as soon as possible, and ever 
view me, 
♦ "Your affectionate friend, 

"Thomas. Spencer." 

But scarcely had Spencer entered on the full dis- 
charge of his public duties at Liverpool, when severe 
affliction in the endeared circle of his connexions at 
Brighton called him to that place. A letter written 
about this period, displays the agonized state of his* 
feelings — but abounds with expressions of holy acqui- 
escence in the Divine dispensations. He left Liver- 
pool on the 18th of March 3 accompanied by the val- 
*I7 



1§8 

I 

ned friend, under whose roof he still resided, and 
whose guest he was during his first visit. Arrived 
in London, the following hasty note bespeaks the an- 
guish of his mind. 

Ludgate-street, Tuesday Night, 
"my dear friend, 

"This moment I am within a few doors of you, 
but cannot reach you. Mr, H— — is with me: we 

have just got in from Liverpool, and start forB 

to-morrow, at seven o'clock in the morning. I shall 
write to you from Brighton. Pray for me; I am in. 
unutterable distress, Farewell! 

."T. Spencep m " 

The Sabbath after his arrival injirighton, he did 
not engage in any public service. Much of the day 
doubtless was spent in administering cprnfort to the 
afflicted. The fears which he had sometimes been 
induced to harbor, were not, however, realised; 
health slowly returned. His friend was under the ne- 
cessity of hastening to Liverpool, after the lapse of a 
few days— but Mr. Spencer remained at Brighton* 
His affectionate heart dictated the following tetter,, 
to welcome his friend on his arrival home. 

No. 37, 

TO MR. H — . 



Brighton^ Thursday Mornings 

J*MY DEAR AND VALUED FRIEND, 

"I am pleasing myself with the idea that 
before this reaches Liverpool, you will have shared 
tlis hearty and affectionate welcome of a beloved and 



I9f 

happy family: this is a blessing which you know 
how to improve and enjoy aright,, and for which 1 
am persuaded you will express the sincerest grati- 
tude to the God of our mercies. May the same kind 
and watchful Providence, which has I trust led you 
to your home in peace and safety, also preserve and 
defend me, that I may be again restored to the 
church and congregation at Newington, and be ena- 
bled to pursue a course of active and useful labor in 
the service of the Master whom I hope I really love. 

"I frequently think that by this visit to Brighton 
on so mournful an occasion, I. shall be better fitted ta 
sympathize with the afflicted in general, and be 
taught how to commend them to God. Before this 
I had not been at all familiar with scenes of sorrow 
and distress. In the two sick rooms you visited last 
Monday evening, I have learned lessons which I 
shall never forget, and the benefit of which may 
probably be communicated to the Church of Christ, 
as well as to myself; 

44 Our Redeemer himself, in order to be rendered a 
merciful and compassionate high-priest, was * tempt* 
ed like as we are;'' endured the various ills and sor- 
rows that flesh is heir to; and hence (oh! blessed 
sympathy and kind relief) he is able to succor them 
that are tempted. 

u Next Sabbath morning I intend to preach at the 
Countess 5 chapel, and in the evening at Mr. Styles': 
pray for me, that I may be supported and blest. It 
is still my design to reach Liverpool on Friday night: 
tell our friends, that whey may expect to see me in 
the pulpit on the following Sabbath. May I be there 
richly laden with the good things of the kingdom;—* 
may I be animated by a mind fraught with rich and 
heavenly favors. I am sure that if my God restores 



200 

those who are so dear to me to perfect health and 
strength, my heart, hard as it is, will not be insensi- 
ble to the feeling of gratitude. No;— it will leap as 
doth a hart; it will pant with 9 the sensations of un- 
utterable joy. I have received a very kind letter 
from our worthy friend, Mr. N. H*- — -; do tell him 
it afforded me real pleasure, and give him my hearty- 
thanks for his solicitude for my happiness. I hope 
you are going on well with the new Chapel business; 
if possible, let us make Satan tremble; against the 
kingdom of darkness let us use the most active and 
unwearied exertions, and God shall bless us in our 
deed. I wish I could have attended the meeting of 
the Bible Society; my absence however was una- 
voidable. Give my affectionate regards to my dear 
friend Mrs. H — —and to your dear children. I- 
hope I shall soon see you all happy and well. Your 
unremitting kindness to me has produced impres- 
sions upon my mind which will never be obliterated* 
I shall be happy again to mix with your family cir- 
cle, and to occupy my own pulpit. To the hearers 
at Newington I intend to shew my regard and best 
wishes, by constantly laboring in their service, 
"I am more than ever your 5 s, 

"Thomas -.Spencer.** 

The uncommon attention excited in Liverpool by 
Mr. Spencer's ministry, soon su£g< sted *h^ necessi'y 
Of providing more accommodation than Newington 
chapel could afford, for the numbers who were anx- 
ious to enjoy the benefit of his stated labors. At 
first the idea of enlarging the old pi ice of worship 
presented itself; but some difficulties arising, this* 
was relinquished, and early in Mirch it was resolv- 
ed; that a chapel capable of accommodating tws; 



201 

thousand, persons should be erected— -a committee of 
management was appointed — and an eligible spot of 
ground soon selected for the purpose. A most judi- 
cious plan for the building was proposed and adopt- 
ed — the dimensions of which were thirty-two yards 
long outside, and twenty-one yards and a half broad 
outside, A liberal subscription was soon obtained, 
and the affair was in a state of such forwardness on 
his return from Brighton, that on the 15th of April, 
Mr. Spencer laid the first stone of the chapel, in the 
presence of an immense assembly- — computed to 
consist of about six thousand persons. On that 
truly interesting occasion, he delivered an appropri- 
ate address, and solemnly dedicated the place to God 
by prayer.* 

About this time Mr. Spencer removed from the 
hospitable abode of his early friend, with whom he 
had resided on his first coming to Liverpool, in order 
to lodge with Mr. Thurstun Lassell, in the Park 
Road; a pleasant situation, about half a mile from 
the town. It was the lot of Spencer tc be beloved 
in every circle which he entered— and none who 
were honored to behold his excellence, and enjoy 
his friendship, ever resigned him without feelings 
of the deepest regret. I cannot deny myself the 
pleasure of extracting a sentence or two from the 
willing testimony which that friend has borne to the 
sterling worth of his amiable guest. I am the more 
anxious to do this, as it will unveil his character in 
private life, and shew us, what he was as the mem- 
ber of a family. 

"We had the great advantage of Mr. Spencer's 
pious conversation and fervent prayers in the family 

* For the oration delivered at the foundation of the chapel — and also for an 
account of the services performed at its opening in, May, 1812— see Ap 
pendix, No. V, 



202 

for near four months, for he did not leave us tilfthe 
latter end of Aprii; it was indeed a pleasant, and I 
trust, a profitable season, which we often review 
with great delight With what pleasing emotions 
have we often surrounded our domestic altar, and 
witnessed the fervor of his addresses to the God and 
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,, In this delight- 
ful employ, he never seemed to engage with half 
a heart, his whole soul was alive to the service of 
his God: he was serious in a serious cause, nor did 
any circumstances that arose ever seem to unfit him 
for the discharge of religions duties. Morning and 
evening he generally engaged in prayer at family ' 
worship; the variety he produced on these occasions 
has often astonished us; it was impossible to trace- 
any thing like repetition, every prayer seemed quite 
new, and gave fresh proof of the powers of his mind,'- 
and the ardor of his soul. 

"Mr. Spencer naturally possessed an amiable dis- 
position, and was innocently cheerful; no one could 
say that gloom or melancholy was connected with 
his religion. In his manners he was simple and 
unaffected; any thing like ostentation or parade he 
disliked exceedingly; he would always, if possible, 
avoid mixing with large parties. The company of 
serious, pious, plain Christians was his delight. 
He was kind, generous, and tender-hearted; the 
wants of the poor and necessitous he was ready and 
willing- to relieve; . 'To do good and communicate 
he forgot not, knowing that with such sacrifices 
God is well pleased.' " 

But whilst all around him was prosperous and 
happy — whilst his ministry was successful beyond 
his most sanguine expectations — and hundreds were 
eager to administer to his comfort — his heart was 



£03 

:the victim of anxiety and grief. The- continued and 
alarming indisposition of his friends at Brighton, in- 
spired his delicate and susceptible mind with the 
most gloomy and agonizing fears. Ite'was well. 
Mis heavenly Father saw he needed some thorn in 
the flesh, under the circumstances of his unexam- 
pled popularity, to prevent his being exalted above 
measure— and to preserve his soul in a frame of ho- 
]y solemnity, and humble reliance on himself. Lest 
the sun of his prosperity should dazzle him t©o 
much, these friendly clouds were permitted to in- 
tervene. Their salutary influence may be traced in 
the following let ten— ^ 

No. 38. 

TO MR. JOHN HADDON. 

Liverpool, April 16, 1811. 

"MY DEAR FRIEN35, 

'"The melancholy state of depression in which 
I have been held so long, must form my excuse for 
neglecting the sacred duties of friendship, in not 
writing before this to you.-- — Oh! how soon can 
Jehovah blast our hopes of happiness from creature 
comforts, to convince us of the uncertainty of all 
earthly good! We mast "walk by faith," and iive in 
the exercise of a lively hope, that we shall obtain a 
better and more permanent rest. I scarcely dare 9 
for my own part, anticipate any other kind of happi- 
ness on earth, but what may arise from communion 
with the Savior, and the delightful work in which I 
am engaged, which, I must say, amidst all my trials, 
affords me increasing happiness and pleasure. Thanks 
be to God, the work of the Lord is prospering in my 



204- 

hand; and though I may not hare much pleasure in 
this world myself, I hope I shall be the means in the 
hands of the Holy Spirit^ of putting into the posses- 
sion of rm fellow creatures, real and substantial feli- 
city; thiS) the gospel I am enabled to preach is sent 
to confer. The next week I expect to go to my 
lodgings. I shall reside in a retired rural and de- 
lightful spot, with a family, (three only in number) 
who belong to the congregation in which the Lord 
has graciously called me to labor; it is about half a 
mile from the town away from all bustle and noise, 
commanding a most delightful and enchanting pros- 
pect of both land and water. My study affords a 
most extensive view of fields and hills, the river, and 
the adjacent county (Cheshire.) I am persuaded it 
is every thing I could wish for as a plan for my resi- 
dence. In that pleasant study* I expect to spend 
much time, and enjoy some degree of pleasure; and 
my dear friend will believe me when- 1 assure him, 
that amidst the afflictions which our righteous Father 
judges the best schools for me, it would tend to alle- 
viate my sorrows and cheer my Spirits, could he be 
in my. new study, and as he did in my old one, occa- 
sionally spend an hour or two with me in social chat, 
"Yesterday I laid the foundation stone of my new 
chapel, gave an address upon the spot, and dedicated 
the place to God in solemn prayer. The auditory 
consisted of not less than five thousand people, who 

* To me it is a melancholy reflection, that I should so soon become the oc- 
cupier of a spot in which he had fondly pictured to himself so many years of 
pleasure. !u his own study — on his own table — in his own chair — 1 an now 
drawing up these memoirs of his life; — around vae are the fruits of his short, 
but laborious exertions — and immediately before my eyes the path by which he 
descended to his grave! From every object within my view, I am admonished, 
'work -whilst it is day, for the night comet h } when no man can work. 9 I would 
that every loiterer in the vineyard of Christ were attended by mementos suck 
ns these. 



205 

were all fixed in their attention. May I, on that 
ground, often find a solace for my cares, in the pub- 
lic worship of God! May he bless the undertaking! 
May his eyes and h ; s heart be there perpetually! 

"Farewell — I must break off by assuring you, that 
I am sincerely your's, 

"Thomas Spencer. " 

The week following that in which he laid the foun- 
dation stone of the new chapel, Mr. Spencer made 
an excursion into the country, and preached on the 
Tuesday evening at Darwen, and on the Thursday 
evening at a meeting of ministers at Blackburn. 

During this journey he suffered much from the 
complaint to which he was subject — but although la- 
boring under the pressure of severe indisposition, in 
the pulpit he rose superior to the influence of lan- 
guor and pain— and his exertions on thct journey are 
still spoken of by those who witnessed then:, and 
they were many, with delight. 

On his return to Liverpool, Mr. Spencer received 
a melancholy summons to Chester, to attend the 
funeral of his early and amiable friend, the Rev. Eben- 
ezer White, and to deliver the oration at his grave- 
His obligations and attachment to that excellent man 
have already been recorded. When arrived at the 
scene cf death, his delicate mind seemed over- 
whelmed in an agony of grief. He stood weeping in 
unutterable distress over the cold remains of his de- 
parted friend. His bosom formed for friendship, and 
even then the seat of no ordinary sorrow, was ill pre- 
pared to sustain the pressure of a stroke, by which 
he was suddenly bereft of one who had discharged 
for him the relations of the father, the tutor, and the 
friend! Mr. Walter White, who was the witness of 
18 



206 

his grief, has thus described it: — "I shall not easily 
forget this dear young man's behavior on the even- 
ing preceding my brother's funeral at. Chester. We 
were standing together by the side of the coffin, view- 
ing the corpse— he wept excessively, and clasping 
his hands with great emotion, exclaimed, 'Oh! that 
I may but finish my course like him!' and turning 
to me he said with his usual energy, 'Oh! what a 
line thought it is, that the bodies of the saints are pur- 
chased by Christ as well as their souls.' And then 
passing his friendly hand gently over my brother's 
face, he said, with great emphasis, 'This body is the 
purchase of Christ: it cannot be lost — it must revive 
again—all these limbs must resume their activity. 
Oh! with what fine sentiments and ideas does the 
Christian religion furnish us to* what any of the 
heathen systems did!" 

Though excessively agitated in his whole frame, 
he yet sustained himself to deliver at the grave a 
funeral oration, characterized by tender and solemn 
eloquence — die eloquence of feeling and of piety. 

His letters to his friends for some time after this 
event, contain occasional allusions to the death of 
Mr. White — and in a way which proves how much 
he loved him — how deeply he deplored his loss* la 
one he says- — 

"1 have lately been visiting a scene of death at 
Chester: my worthy friend Mr. White is now no 
more in this world; but I doubt not, he shines illus- 
triously in another state of existence. When I was 
eleven years of age he came to Hertford, and used to 
spend a great deal of time with me: ah! little did I 
then think I should have to deliver a funeral address 
at his interment, and so faraway too from the place 
with which we were then familiar. Peace to his 



207 

ashes, and eternal joy to his departed spirit! and ere 
long may I meet him in that blessed stated where 
disappointments will no longer b? his lot or mine. 5 " 

On the Sabbath evening following, Mr. Spencer 
preached a funeral sermon for his friend, in his own 
pulpit at Liverpool, from Deut. xxxiv, 5, 'So Moses 
the servant of the Lord, died there in the land of Mo- 
ab y according to the word of the Lord? The sermon 
was solemn and impressive. Thus we record the 
mortality of others, and drop into eternity ourselves. 
On that Sabbath evening three months, his own fu- 
neral sermon was preached in the same pulpit. 

The following letter was written the clay before 
the funeral of Mr. Whiter- 
No. 39. 

TO MR. HADDON. 

May 13, 18 1 L 
"my dear friend, 

"I am ashamed when I think c^ the length 
of time which has passed since I last wrote to you; 
but indeed since then I have scarcely written to any 
one, so much have i been occupied. What a beau- 
tiful and admirable narrative is the Dairyman's 
Daughter; if you can, get me two hundred of them, 
and send me the very first opportunity: they are just 
the kind of publication I want for several of my hear- 
ers* Procure me some of the Negro Servant, and of 
all the interesting modern tracts, which your own 
discretion may suggest. The Rev. Ebenezer White 
of Chester, has entered into the joy of his Lord. He 
was formerly settled at Hertford. 1 knew him and 
highly esteemed him. I am going to his funeral. Oh! 



208 

lipw uncertain is human life! how necessary that ha- 
bitual frame of piety which the Holy Spirit can im- 
part to his believing favorites! May we both enjoy 
the sanctity of religion, love it for its purity, and be 
enabled to discern its holy excellencies; then we 
shall show that our regeneration is real, and our hope 
of heaven well supported, God is showing me more 
siiid more of the uncertainty of all things here, and 
the necessity of living the blessed life of faith upon 
the Son of God, who, I sometimes think I can say, 
"loved me, and gave himself for me." I study a 
good deal, and find increasing pleasure in it. In 
visiting, as yet I have done but very little. The 
families lum most intimate with, are the serious, the 
pious followers of Christ; for I find that these alone 
can help me to comfort under my own trials, or in 
any way do me real good. But I know I must not 
be selfish. I must labor to do good in any way I 
can possibly think of. 

fct I am much pleased with my lodgings; the situa- 
tion is so retired and beautiful, that it is every thing 
1 can wish*§ I doubt not but you continue to pray 
for me, and I need your prayers. I feel the awful 
responsibility of my work, and my own unfitness 
for it. I long to 'present every man perfect in 
Christ Jesus. 9 Remember me affectionately to all 
our friends. 

t; I am sincerely your's, 

"Thomas Sp£nce&. ; ' 

Mr. Spencer seemed now to become more and 
more interested in his important work; the scenes 
of every day appeared to present it to his mind in 
some new and interesting light. The powers of his 
soul were absorbed in its concerns. He could think 



209 

and speak of nothing else, In the pulpit, or in pre- 
parations for it— in serious conversation with his 
friends— or in the chambers of the diseased and dy- 
ing, he was at home. He lived but for the discharge 
of his high obligations; and in the prosecution of his 
arduous work he was both useful and happy. Willi 
astonishing rapidity his character and talents ripen- 
ed. He seemed to grow daily in favor both with 
God and man. All that saw him, admired him, 
there was something so engaging in his manner — all 
that heard him, respected and revered him, so seri- 
ous and important were the trftths which he deliv- 
ered—all that 'knew him, loved him, for his was every 
amiable quality that could excite and retain the best 
affections of the human heart. 

Valuable as our public institutions for the educa- 
tion of students for the Christian ministry really are, 
they can afford but an inadequate conception of the 
complicated duties of the pastoral office. The work 
of the pulpit is perhaps, after all, not the most diffi- 
cult or trying part of the -pastor's employ — and the 
reason why so many fail when called into active 
service in the Church of God, is probably this, that 
they never calculated upon one half of the engage- 
ments which then press upon their regard. They 
had formed a most incorrect estimate of the numer- 
ous claims which the office of the ministry involves, 
upon their time— their talents— their patience— and 
their faith. They had imagined* that in the com- 
position and delivery of sermons was the chief of 
their labor—and that when this duty was discharg- 
ed, by far the heaviest burden was removed. The 
visitation of the sick, with all the peculiar delicacy, 
prudence, affection, and faithfulness which it requires 
—the consolation of the distressed^ with all the cau- 
#18 



210 

tion and skill which the varieties of their grief de- 
mand—the reproof and admonition of the irregular, 
with ail the mingled tenderness, constancy and fidel- 
ity, which, in such difficult cases, must be exercised 
—the care of the joung, with that adaptation of 
temper and manner to their capacities which, in the 
work of catechising, familiar conversation or public 
instruction is absolutely necessary— the advising, 
comforting and relieving the distressed, the embar- 
rassed, and the indigent, who all press to him for coun- 
sel, solace and relief; — these, and unnumbered other 
duties connected with the pastoral office, are per- 
haps but seldom contemplated with sufficient serious- 
ness amid the exercises of a college. And even in 
the public engagements of ministry, the circumstan- 
ces of the pastor differ materially from those of the 
student. The pulpit compositions of the student are 
general; those of the pastor must be particular. 
The student has no individual case to suit; the con- 
gregation to whom he preaches are strangers to 
him; the pastor has as many cases as there are peo- 
ple committed to his charge. The student can se- 
lect his topics, and adapt his preaching to the tone of 
his mind — -or if peculiar reluctance shoi#d be felt ? 
may enjoy the repose he wishes, and not preach at 
all; but the pastor must appear at the stated hours 
of worship, whatever be the frame and temper of his 
soul- Often he is called to the discussion of sub- 
jects but ill adapted to his feelings; and it becomes 
his duty to administer consolation to others which 
his bleeding bosom needs, but cannot take. He 
must sometimes cover with a smiling countenance 
an aching heart; and his lips must exhort to tran- 
quillity and confidence in God, whilst over his own 
spirit broods the clouds of anxiety and sorrow! 



211 

Happy shall I be if the perusal of these imperfect 
memoirs tend to excite in the breast of any a spirit 
of Christian sympathy and prayer for the ministers 
of the gospel; or if these statements of the labors 
and anxieties of their office, shall induce those to 
pause and count the mighty cost, who may be 
thoughtlessly pressing forward to the arduous work* 
Let such remember the worth of souls — the guilt 
of becoming accessary to their ruin — and the sol- 
emn account all must render at the bar of God, who 
have taken upon themselves the responsibility of 
seeking, by every possible method, to promote their 
eternal interests. 

These considerations seemed ever present to the 
view of Spencer. The feelings of an affectionate 
and faithful pastor's heart breathe in every sentence 
of the following letter. 

No. 40. 

TO MR. HADDOK". 

Liverpool, May 31, 1811, 
"my dear friend, 

u You really must excuse my apparent neg- 
lect in not writing you before; but if you knew 
the number and pressing nature of my avocations, 
you would not wonder. I now feel and deeply too, 
the dreadful responsibility of my employment. I 
have sick beds constantly to attend— a numerous 
congregation committed to my charge — a character 
to sustain, which ought ever to appear free, even 
from the very appearance of evil — and all this with 
the most depressed state of feelings, and but little 
experience of the arduous duties the course of the 
Christian ministry embraces. Often do I exclaim. 



212 

'who is sufficient for these things?' Oh! that I may 
find that my sufficiency is of God, I am led at 
times to derive encouragement from the good which 
I trust the blessed Spirit has accomplished by my 
feeble labors; but then I think again of my youth, 
my inexperience, my exposure to the fiery darts of 
the wicked one, and the possibility of my eventually 
becoming l a cast-awayS 

"Oh! there are many feelings of this painful class 
in my mind which few can share, which 1 cannot 
dare frequently to communicate. 

"All this, and much more, do I daily feel. I 
wish you were with me. I could say a thousand 
things I cannot write, and you might console me 
with the comforts wherewith you yourself are com- 
forted of God! Do pray for me, for I need it more 
than ever now. Often do I dispense to ethers that 
consolation I cannot take myself. 

"Thank you a thousand times for Cecil. Oh! 
they are admirable; what a character was he. Oh! 
that the Head of the Church would but make me 
like him. The tracts are just what I wanted; may 
a Divine blessing attend the distribution of thenu 
Farewell. "I am your's affectionately, 

"Thomas Spencer.' 5 

In another letter he writes: 

"Cecil's works are a high treat indeed: you can- 
not think how I enjoy the perusal of them. There 
are such valuable hints for ministers — such inesti- 
mable directions, that I hope I shall evince the ben- 
efit of reading them, to the last hour of the day in 
which I am appointed to work!"' 



213 

The church and congregation at Liverpool now 
became anxious for Mr, Spencer's ordination, and 
Thursday the 27th of June was appointed for that 
solemn service. In the following letter he announc- 
ed it to his early friend and patron, Mr. Wilson* 
whose presence on that occasion he earnestly de- 
sired. 

No, 4L r 

TO THOMAS WILSON, ES<^. 

Liverpool^ June 4^ 1-811". 
"my dear sir, 

"I am happy to inform yon, that Thursday 
June the 27th is the day appointed for my ordina- 
tion. Will you allow me to expect the pleasure of 
your presence and society on that solemnity? If 
you were here, you would be pleased with my pros- 
pect of usefulness, and you would be able to sug- 
gest some hints to our friends about the new chapel. 
Little things are apt to be neglected, and their neg- 
lect, though apparently trifling, would spoil the 
whole concern. We may well congratulate each 
other on the triumph the dissenters have obtained 
over an intolerant and oppressive spirit. They have 
imagined a vain thing: the Lord reigneth, let the 
people tremble. You know the great depression of 
spirits under which I have for some time labored; 
may the Lord appear a present help in this time of 
trouble. The walls of Zion are to be built, it ap- 
pears, in troublous times, for such they are to me; 
yet I would submissively commit my cause to God; 
he may ordain that the benefit of his Church, and 
the good of others, shall be promoted by the ills I 



214 

endure. You know poor White, of Chester, has 
received the end of his faith— the salvation of his 
soul; I delivered the oration over his grave. Mr. 
Fletcher, of Blackburn, preached his funeral sermon. 
We are all dying creatures, hastening to the world 
of immortality. I think that lately the world has 
appeared to me in its true light- — ^it passeth away? 
May we by every dispensation of Providence be 
rendered more meet for the inheritance of the saints 
in light: in due time may we be clothed upon with 
our house, which is from heaven. Present my kind 
respects to Mrs. and Miss Wilson. I hope you 
will try to visit Liverpool by the time mentioned. 
Wishing much to see you, I remain, dear Sir, 
"Affectionately your's, 

"Thomas Spencer.' 5 

The day of ordination at length arrived. The 
chapel in which Mr. Spencer preached being but 
small, that service, which, amongst dissenters of the 
congregational order, is remarkably solemn, was per- 
formed at the chapel in Byrom-street, Liverpool, 
which w 7 as handsomely granted to the people at 
Newington chapel for that special purpose. It was 
indeed an interesting day. The services were com- 
menced by the Rev. Mr. Evans of Stockport, who 
read suitable portions of scripture, and emploredthe 
Divine blessing upon the sacred engagements of the 
clay. The Rev. Joseph Fletcher, M. A. of Black- 
burn, then delivered an admirable introductory dis- 
course, and received from Mr. Spencer his confes- 
sion of faith, together with answers to the questions 
usually, on such occasions, proposed to the minister 
to be ordained;* Mr. Spencer then kneeling down, 

* For Mr. Spencer's confession of faith, &c. see Appendix. No. VI. 



215 

surrounded by his fathers and brethren in the min- 
istry, the Rev- John Cgckin, of Halifax, offered up, 
with deep solemnity, the ordination prayer, accom- 
panied by the imposition of hands. To this act of 
ordination succeeded a most impressive and affect- 
ing charge from the Rev. William Hordle, of Har- 
wich, Mr. Spencer's former tutor and friend. The 
passage on which this excellent address was founded 
was Col. iv, 1 7. ' Take heed to the ministry which 
thou hast received in the Lord^ that thou fulfil it? 
The Rev. Mr. Roby, of Manchester, preached to 
the people of Mr. Spencer's charge, upon the duties 
which devolved on them in the relation that day pub- 
licly recognised from Gal iv, 18, 'It is good to be 
zealously affected always in a good thing? The ser- 
vice was throughout most affecting and impressive; 
it was characterized by a peculiar solemnity, both in 
the feelings of the ministers and people. The ten- 
der frame and delicate mind of Spencer was nearly 
overwhelmed by the awful considerations which then 
pressed upon him. Had the melancholy event which 
so rapidly succeeded this interesting seivice been 
at that time certainly announced, a seriousness more 
suitable to the occasion could hardly have been in- 
spired; and indeed in Mr. Hordie's charge there 
were passages which in the sad sequel of this histo- 
ry appear most singularly appropriate— bordering 
even on the prophetic! One in particular deserves to 
be recorded: — 

"You, my dear young brother, must die, and 
stand at the bar of God. Your ordination service 
may be only a prelude to your funeral service, for 
what is man? Man is but of yesterday, and his days 
are as a shadow. How often have we seen the sun 



216 

go down while it is yet day! and while the church 
has been pleasing itself with the prospect of enjoy- 
ing the pious fervent labors of an endeared minister 
for years, has an unexpected stroke separated them 
forever! Mourning survivors wondering have said, 
^Verily thou art a God that hidest thyself God of 
fsrael, the SaviorS 

Too often such remarks as these are passed by 
unnoticed by the thoughtless— are merely consider- 
ed as expletives to supplv the want of other matter 
— or splendid furniture to decorate and give effect 
to the address. The anticipation, though founded 
in reason, warranted by scripture, and authorized by 
experience, is yet unaccompanied by any just as* 
surance of the event it realizes; audits connexion 
with any special decree of God is concealed from 
mortals. But there are seasons when the lips of holy 
men seem to utter som€thing more than those vague 
admonitions of death, which, from their frequent re- 
currence, or the uncertainty of their immediate ac- 
complishment, lose their power to impress. And to 
those who admit the doctrine of divine influence up- 
on the minds of men, and more especially upon such 
as are appointed to state and enforce the solemn 
doctrines of revelation to mankind, it can be no 
source of astonishment that God should sometimes 
direct the thoughts and expressions of his ministers 
into a current adapted to certain ends he has to an- 
swer, or particular events he intends shajl shortly 
come to pass. With respect to the passage above 
cited, and its corresponding event, persons will form 
their own opiniono I cannot, however, but regard it 
as adding somewhat to the force and propriety of ob- 
servations such as these, since here was another in- 
stance, in which the event anticipated by the speaker 



217 

as possible, though at the time, perhaps regarded by 
the hearers as highly improbable, was but too surely 
realized! 

Mr. Spencer was now fully invested with that sa- 
cred office, which from his infancy he had desired; 
and he set himself diligently to the discharge of its 
momentous duties. That he felt its importance, was 
evident to all. His habitual conduct and conversa- 
tion proved it. To his most intimate friends he 
freely expressed his anxieties respecting it; and earn- 
estly did he implore an interest in the prayers of his 
people and his brethren in the ministry. In the as- 
surance that he labored amongst a praying people, 
he felt confidence: and no consideration is more 
adapted to relieve the mind of a faithful minister than 
this — while it pours unseen a thousand blessings on 
his head, it secures to his labors an affectionate at- 
tention, and an earnest desire rightly to appreciate 
and improve them. That which persons make the 
subject of earnest prayer, they Will usually value; 
and it is hardly possible but that good must be uni- 
formly the result, when both minister and people 
come from their closets, which have witnessed *their 
fervent intercessions for each other, to the house of 
God. The apostle knew how to estimate the pray- 
ers even of the meanest Christians who enjoyed his 
labors. ' Brethren pray for us. f *^-It is true that a 
people will for the most part take the cast of their re- 
ligious character from that of their minister: if he 
be much alive to God, and Eealous in the discharge 
of his ministry, he will communicate the sacred flame 

* See an admirable sermon upon this subject by the Rev. William jsy, sf 
Bath, preached at the settlement of the Rev. Henry Forster Burder, A. MV 
at Hackney. Every pious minister, who knows its' worth, must wish to see thif 
excellent discourse in the hands of his people, 

19 



218 

to all around him, and cause his people to reflect op 
every side the light his preaching and his exam- 
ple shed. But on the other hand, are there no in- 
stances in which the reverse of this has been the 
ease; the minister has been gradually disheartened 
and dispirited by a cold, supine, and worldly-mind- 
ed people, who have continually thwarted him in 
his generous designs — counteracted his benevolent 
eftorts-^and quenched, by indifference and neglect, 
the ardor of his zeal. Instead of assisting him in his 
glorious work, they have hung like weights about 
his garments; and instead of acting as pioneers to 
prepare the paths of Christian -benevolence for his 
willing feet to tread, they have clogged up the*ave- 
nues with obstacles, and lined the way with insuper- 
able difficulties* The spirit of the man has been 
broken by perpetual disappointment — vexation has 
gradually enervated his mind—and by slow and im- 
perceptible degrees he has sunk into torpor and in- 
difference—and the languor of the pastor ? has at 
length presented an unhappy counterpart to the su- 
pineness of the people. And even where neither 
the cause nor the consequences obtain to so alarming 
and fatal degree, still it is to be deplored that any 
approach to them should be suffered to exist. Here 
the stated attendants on a gospel ministry may often 
find a reason for that want of pleasure and improve- 
ment which sometimes they deplore, though most 
unjustly, at the preacher's cost. If prayer, special 
and fervent, for a blessing on their pastor's labors, 
has been neglected, the mystery is at once developed. 
For they have no right whatever to expect a blessing 
without prayer; and a£ they have no right to expect 
it without prayer, neither are they in a suitable frame 
tp receive it: and thus it often happens, that where 



219 

the prayerless soul departs empty away 5 the humble 
and earnest petitioner obtains a rich and suitable 
supply from the same table and of the sane food. 
It is light bread to the one, but- it is life-giving and 
substantial provision to the other. { Ask and ye shall 
receive? 

On the first Sabbath in July Mr. Spencer dis- 
pensed, for the first time, the solemn ordinance of the 
Lord's supper. It was a time of love— a season of 
refreshing from the presence of the Lord. The 
sweet impression of that happy day still remains, and 
its memory is yet dear to many. On the -following 
Monday, at the social prayer meeting in the evening, 
in the bosom of his people, he again solemnly deal' 
cated himself to God, and renewed his vows to con- 
secrate all his powers to their service in the work of 
the ministry. Indeed, all he wrote, or said, or did, 
indicated the holy fervor of his soul. Tenderly alive 
to the sacred delicacy of his character, he was anx- 
ious to sustain it well, that the cause of Jesus might 
not suffer by any spots it might contract. Conscien- 
tiously awake to every call of duty which his most 
responsible station might involve, he was ready to 
obey them all — that the ministry might not be blam- 
ed!— -The following letter is from his correspor. 
dence about this time, and may be numbered with the 
last he ever wrote. The expressions which I have 
copied, arc mingled with others sacred to the privacy 
of friendship. They promise pleasures never real 
ised — unfold prospects suddenly destroyed— and 
record arrangements he was not permitted to fulfil! 



220 

No 42. 

TO MR. HADDON. 

Liverpool^ July 8, 18 1L 

U MY DEAR FRIEND, 

# # # # # 

"The ordination has for the last fortnight, 
occupied almost the whole of my attention, and the 
impression, the solemn, the holy impression of which 
1 trust I shall never forget. Yesterday, for the first 
time in my life, I administered the ordinance of the 
Lord's supper, and found it- to he indeed f a time of 
refreshing from the presence of the Lord? My du- 
ties are more and more important and pressing. 
Conversations upon religious experience with candi- 
dates for admission into our church, the baptism of 
children, and the calls of the sick and dying must 
necessarily engage much of my attention. But I 
can sincerely bless God, that amidst all the depres- 
sion of mind I have suffered, my work has been my 
delight. The duties of the ministry have often re- 
freshed, instead of oppressing me. The pleasure of 
the Lord has prospered in my hands. I love the 
service of the Head of the Church better than ever I 
did: when I am watering others, I find that Jehovah 
the Spirit waters my own soul too! Oh!- is not this 

an encouraging token for good? 

1 'In great liaste, 

"I am ever your affectionate friend, 

"Thomas Spencer*^ 

In the mean time, Mr. Spencer was not confined 
to his own pulpit. He gave his brethren in the min- 



221 

istry tokens of his affectionate regard, by officiating 
for thefti in their respective places: and he also made 
several excursions into the country, Mr. Spencer 
did not encourage the idea, that as he had become by 
voluntary consecration the minister of a particular 
church, the church in general had now lost every 
claim upon his kind attention. Nor were the people 
amongst whom he labored of a disposition so selfish 
and narrow, as to wish to confine his exertions exclu- 
sively to the spot they occupied. That the first and 
constant regards of a pastor are due to the people of 
his charge, none can dispute; but with the work of 
the pastor, to a certain extent, may with the greatest 
propriety be added that of an evangelist. There are 
surrounding districts that will often cry to him for 
help, which he is bound to render — there are desti- 
tute societies to whom he must minister consolation 
and instruction, in token of his brotherly love— and • 
there are interchanges of friendship, which promote 
union, which relieve the mind, and which will ever 
be found beneficial to the churches by whom they 
are encouraged. Intercourse with society informs 
the judgment— corrects the views, and expands the 
mind. Long labor in one appointed sphere, however 
important and delightful the duties it involves, and 
especially where all the powers of the mind are ever 
on the stretch, must produce at length weariness, ■., 
sameness, monotony. A visit to another scene—in- 
tercourse with other connexions— ■refreshes and re- 
vives the wasted spirits and the weary frame. And & 
the churchy however they may value. their pastor's i 
ministry and regret his absence, will hot eventually 
be losers by the temporary privation they may suffexv-.' 
But we must, however reluctant, pass on to thee 
closing scenes of Mr. Sbencer's life. . As his death t 

*18 



222 

was sudden, I have none of those sayings or senti- 
ments to record which occupy the last pages of most 
biographical sketches of departed saints; and yet his 
friends remember, with peculiar pleasure, in what a 
holy frame of mind he appeared to be during the 
whole of the week previous to his removal. If I 
should be more minute than may be deemed abso* 
lutely necessary in what remains of these imperfect 
memoirs of this lovely youth, I trust that I shall be 
forgiven. I write for friendship; and to his friends 
it must afford peculiar gratification to follow him 
through all the scenes he visited, and mark the slight- 
est movements of his mind during the last week of 
his residence on this earth. 

On Sabbath day, July 28, being the day appointed 
for a collection for the new chapel, Mr. Spencer 
preached a most excellent sermon in the morning 
from Ezra ix, 8. 'And now for a little space grace 
has been shewed from the Lord our God to leave us a 
remnant to escape, and to give us a nail in his holy 
place, that our God may lighten our eyes, and give 
us a little reviving in our bondage. 9 In the evening 
his text was Acts xhi, 26, 'To you is the word of 
this salvation sent .' On that day he exerted himself 
grearl} , and complained much of a pain at his hearty 
but did not seem at night particularly fatigued. The 
following day he spent chiefly in conversation with 
his friends respecting the state of the church, and 
some candidates for communion who were to be vis- 
ited and received during that week — he dined at the 
house of a friend — in the afternoon visited the sick 
room of one of his members — and in the evening 
attended the prayer meeting at the chapel, when he 
-recapitulated the outline of a sermcn which had befcn 



22* 

preached on the Wednesday evening preceding, by 
the Rev. Mr. Bavies, of London. His memory was 
remarkably retentive, and he gave in that exercise a 
proof of its powers, which astonished all that heard 
him. That evening he slept in Liverpool, and early 
on Tuesday morning he went with a friend to Pres* 
cot and laid the foundation stone of a new chapel 
there, and delivered an address adapted to the occa- 
sion, in the presence of a large assembly. From the 
ground he retired to the house of a gentleman in 
Prescot, whose child he then baptized, and so pro- 
ceeded immediately to St. Helen's, a town about 
four miles distant, where he preached in the .even* 
ing. On Wednesday afternoon he returned much 
fatigued to Liverpool, but preached in the evening 
with great animation, from a text selected for him 
by one of the young persons of his church; Rev. xi, 
2, *• Nevertheless I have sowewhat against thee> be- 
cause thou hast left thy first love. y The Rev. Mr. 
Wray, the missionary at Demerara, was then in Liv- 
erpool, and was at the chapel. A friend who saw Mr. 
Spencer in the vestry after service, observed him 
to be much exhausted, and heard him say, for the 
first time, "Oh! 1 did not feel comfortable in seeing 
a brother minister in the congregation this evening." 
Usually he did not fear the Jace of man. On Thurs- 
day, about noon, one of his deacons called upon him 
at his residence, and he was occupied the whole day 
with him in visiting those who were to be received into 
the church; his conversations, with the respective can- 
didates, were truly admirable and appropriate, and such 
as will remain in the grateful memory of those who 
had the happiness to enjoy them. On Friday he was 
occupied until the afternoon in writing letters to his 



224 

friends. I am able to present the reader with ex* 
tracts from two of them. 

August^ 1811. 
"I find growing pleasure in my ministerial 
employment; this evening I have to admit eight new 
members to church communion; indeed when I ac- 
cepted this situation, I never conceived that I should 
have half the engagements or duties to attend to, 
which I now find must be accomplished, if I would 
merit the character of an active, useful minister of 
religion. I think my recent afflictions, and the 
solemn duties which now devolve upon me, have 
in a considerable degree chastened my character, 
and imparted, perhaps, a seriousness to my general 
deportment, which may prove highly advantageous 
to me in future life. How long this will last I can- 
not tell, but I think affliction adds a weight to a char- 
acter nothing else does, and especially to young peo- 
ple and young ministers. I have lately been preach- 
ing in the villages round Liverpool. — Oh let us 
aim to glorify God, and then trust all our concerns 
in his hands, thatjso at the last we may be accepted 
of him." 

In another, to his father, he says : 

c ' 4 I was much hurt at the account of my mother's^ 
Illness; I hone no distressing circumstances have 
arisen, and by this time, perhaps, I may indulge the 
idea that you are better yourself. Oh! how neces- 
sary that we shotild all seek a better country, since 
here there is so much change, affliction, and wo. 
May every trial be sanctified to us all, and we be 
mcetened for the inheritance of the saints in light. 57 

i His 3^ep-motfcer, 



225 

Having concluded his earthly correspondence with 
his distant friends, forever,* he left his residence 
and resumed his pastoral visits amongst his people, 
and the candidates who were to be that evening re- 
ceived. At the church meeting he was particularly- 
lively; with holy joy he welcomed the new members 
into the communion of the church, and as he gave to 
eaclx the right hand of fellowship, he addressed a 
short but most affectionate and solemn exhortation, 
admirably adapted to their.respective ages, stations, 
and feelings. t Indeed, all the duties of the pastor's 

* His correspondence with his buoyed- and honored parent has been re- 
cently renewed. Spencer's father sleeps the sleep of death, his body rests 
in his bed, but his spirit walks in its uprightness. He was a venerable saint. 
Few hs*e felt the pressure of trials such as his, and few have displayed a 
spirit more uncomplaining and resigned. He walked with God. Repeatedly 
before his departure he assured his family that he was going to glory. And 
on the 25 th of December 1&12, his happy spirit was dismissed to the enjoy- 
ment of its rest. 

f At the church meeting, with great emphasis, be gave out the following 1 
hymn from Kelly's collection: 

RECEIVING A MEMBER. 

"Come in thou blessed of the Lord-, 

Enter in Jesus' precious name: 
We welcome thee with one accord, 

And trust the Savior does the same. 

Thy name, 'tis hop'd, already stands, 

Mark'd in the book of life above; 
And now to thine we join our hands, 

In token of fraternal love. 

Thore joys which earth cannot, aftbrcu 

We'll seek in fellowship to prove; 
Join'd in one spirit to our Lord, 

Together bound hj mutual love. 

And while we pass this vale of tears, 
We'll make our joys and sorrows knowr*. 

We'll share each other's hopes and fears, 
And count another's care our own, 

Once more our welcome we repeat; 

Receive assurance of our love; 
Oh! may we all together meet 

Around the throne ©f God aboYe ." 



226 

office were conducted by him with a propriety and 
an ease, which years of experience are frequently 
unable to supply. With the unaffected simplicity 
of youth he tempered the dignity of age— he seemed 
to be at once at home in the duties of his new and 
important station — -never embarrassed or confused; 
he appeared to have an intuitive perception of what 
belonged to his character and office, in every case as 
it arose; and following the inward suggestion, he ac- 
quitted himself well, and discharged with undeviat- 
ing consistency the high responsibilities he bore. 

After the meeting, Mr. Spencer spent the evening 
in serious conversation witl> a few friends; leading 
with great fervor the devotions of the family, and 
closing a clay of sacred duties, with uncommon calm- 
ness and placidity of mind. 

The following morning, Saturday, he spent in his 
study, in preparations for the pulpit. In the course 
of the day he wrote to a young lady, one of the num- 
ber received, the preceding evening, into his church 
— at the close of the note he said,-— 

44 I suppose ydu anticipate to-morrow with feel- 
ings of solemnity, you will appear in a new light to 
the church of Christ, and the spectators cf our holy 
solemnities; we shall share to-morrow Zion's chief 
feast. May the blessing of the God of ordinances 
be upon us all. Wishing you the enjoyment of 
perfect health, and much communion with your best 
Friend, 

"I remain, he. 

"Thomas Spencer/ 5 

After dinner on the Saturday, the conversation 
turned upon a passage in EzeKiel — "I will cause you 



227 

to pass under the rod, and I will bring you into the 
bond of the covenant;" from which Mr. Spencer took 
occasion to speak much at large upon the nature and 
-stability of the covenant of grace, In the evening 
he met the Rev. Messrs. Charrier, Lister, and VVray, 
the missionary, together with Mr. Laird, of Green- 
ock, and others, at the house of a friend. It was a 
pleasant interview, and hi reflection has afforded to 
the persons who composed that social party the sin- 
cerest pleasure* To his most intimate friends, it is a 
source of mucli satisfaction, that his pastoral engage- 
ments that week were such as everyday to bring 
him into their society — so that they had constant in- 
tercourse with their departed friend — and passing 
with him from house to house can look back and 
say, 'Did not our hearts burn within us while * he talked 
to us by the way, and opened unto us the scriptures.'— 
Like the companion cf Elijah, they walked with him 
in close connexion from spot to spot, charmed 
and edified with the holy strain of his discourse; and 
the rising lustre of his character; but all unconscious, 
that whilst they were thus conversing with him up. 
on earth, the chariot of Israel and the horsemen 
thereof were preparing to conduct him triumphantly 
to heaven. 

But the scene closes rapidly upon us. On the 
last Sabbath of his life, August 4th, he rose with un- 
usual health and spirits. The family with whom he 
resided always beheld him with peculiar interest on 
the morning of the Sabbath, such an air of angelic 
mildness and composure sat upon his countenance— 
and so deeply did he seem absorbed in the contem- 
plation of the sacred duties of the day. That morn- 
ing he preached from Jer. xxxi, 3 — '[have loved thee 
with an everlasting love ) therefore with loving kind- 



228 

ness have I drawn thee? The way of his discussing 
the subject was simple and interesting: — I have 
drawn thee — to the cross — to the throne — to the 
church — were the leading ideas in the discourse. It 
was particularly adapted to the occasion, so many 
new members being that day added to the church. 
He afterwards administered the Lord's supper in a 
most solemn and affecting manner. Such as witnes- 
sed the scene — and the number of spectators was 
about three hundred — bear an unanimous testimony 
to the deep solemnity by which it was characterized. 
His appeals to the conscience were so close and over* 
whelming — his invitations to the faint and weary 
were so pressing and tender — his countenance — his 
voice — his whole manner were so expressive of holy 
fervor, that every eye was fixed — every heart seem- 
ed moved. How long the impression will remain I 
cannot tell; but the emotions enkindled by the trans- 
actions of that day are yet lively in the hearts of 
many — -and numbers love to converse upon it, as 
one of those rare and highly favored seasons, in 
which the distance between earth and heaven seems 
annihilated — and so transporting is the joy, that 
whether in the body or out of the body, the happy 
Christian can scarcely tell! To a friend, who after- 
wards hinted that he appeared to be very happy in 
prayer at the Lord's supper, he replied — "O yes; I • 
thought I could have prayed, and prayed, and mount- 
ed up to heaven!" At the close of that memorable 
service— one, the ardor of whose feelings, age had 
checked, observed, that "Mr. Spencer seemed that 
morning twenty years older in experience than he 
really was." Ax dinner he mentioned to the family, 
that he had received that morning a letter from a 
friend in London who had been formerly reluctant 



to his settlement in Liverpool, as though it Were not 
the sphere designed by Providence for him. He 
then expressed the full conviction of his own mind, 
that he was precisely where he ought to be— under 
such an impression, he observed, that he was perfect- 
ly satisfied and happy; and added, "if it had not 
been the will of God, I should never have settled 
here;*' 

In rite evening, in the midst of a throng, such as 
is rarely witnessed, and from which hundreds depart- 
ed unable to gain access, he preached from Luke x, 
42, l One thing is needful > and Alary hath chosen thai 
good part which shall not be taken axuay from her ^ 
His chief object in this sermon was to shew, that 
communion with the Savior is the one thing needful, 
Throughout the whole discourse, it seemed as if all 
the powers of his mind, all the ardor of his soul were 
infused into his composition, and his delivery. In 
the application, he was uncommonly urgent with the 
young — -earnestly exhorting them to an immediate 
decision on the side of Christ—representing to them 
the folly and the danger of deferring the important: 
concerns of salvation and eternitv to an uncertain 
futurity — and assuring them that very soon he should 
meet them at the bar of God 5 and that there he should 
be a swift witness against them. By thrjge who are 
best able to decide, it was observed, that his last ser- 
mon was perhaps the most adapted for usefulness of 
any he had preached— and this observation which 
was made immediately after its delivery, has been 
since most amply confirmed, in instances perpetual!/ 
presenting themselves, in which- that sermon proved 
instrumental in effecting the happiest impressions, 
many of which hive issued in a saving ehanae. 
20 



230 

After the labors of the day he went to the house 0i 
a friend to supper; he did not appear to be unusually 
fatigued. With great fervor he led the devotions of 
the family* He read a portion of scripture, and 
gave out the 165th hymn of the 2d book* He was 
remarkably copious ami earnest in prayer— ooo> 
mending especially to God — the family— the church 
- — the members who had recently joined — the mis- 
sionary (who was present) and every object to which 
his holy and benevolent mind recurred. At supper 
the conversation was pure and spiritual— such as the 
book of remembrance in heaven preserves— such as 
will not easily be forgotten upon earth. The subject 
was sudden death. The countenance of Spencer, al- 
ways animated, was lighted up with holy joy as he 
discoursed upon the glory of departed saints— he 
seemed to realize the scenes he attempted to de- 
scribe, whilst he expressed his own conceptions of 
the transport and surprise in which the disembodied 
spirit will be lost, when first admitted to the imme- 
diate presence of God. He spoke much upon the 
blessedness of putting off the garments of mortality 
in a moment, and being caught up unexpectedly and 
instantaneously to heaven! He seemed to lose the 
memory of the day's fatigue in the interesting theme, 
and frequently observed, that he had not for a long 
time felt himself so free from weariness. A little af- 
ter eleven, he parted with his friends forever. Nev- 
er did they discover more of the warmth of his friend- 
ship, or the ardor of his piety, than in this last, hap- 
py interview. His countenance seemed eradiated 
with smiles of ineffable benignity— his whole deport- 
ment indicated a mind abstracted from the world, ex- 
cept so far as bound to it by the benevolentdesire of 
./loing good, and wholly devoted to communion and 



231 

m 

fellowship with God. So mature indeed did his 
character appear— so ripe did he seem for glory, that, 
some of his friends could not but entertain a presen- 
timent of his early removal, Though not then ele- 
vated to a higher sphere, he still appeared mysteri- 
ously weaned from earth. His loins were girt, and 
his lamp burning with unusual brightness, as though 
he expected the coming of his Lord. In its anticipa- 
tions of future glory, his happy spirit seemed to try 
its pinions, preparatory to the glorious flight it was 
about to take. 

On Monday morning August the 5th, th^ last day 
that dawned for him^ he rose rather later than usual; 
his mind was too active for his body: the exhausted 
frame required rest. After breakfast, he received a 
visit from a young lady, one of the members lately 
admitted into the church. He entered the room with 
a cheerful smile; and the family having retired after 
some general conversation, he said, "Well M— , 
you are now a member of a Christian .church; yes- 
terday you solemnly professed your faith in Christ, 
while the attention of many of your fellow creatures 
was fixed on you; God also beheld our profession—* 
all heaven and hell witnessed the solemnity." On 
her expressing some fears lest she should be unable 
to act consistently with the profession she had made* 
he replied, "Live near to Christ— be much in com- 
munion with vour own heart— be very frequent in 
addresses at a throne of grace, and there is no fear of 
you." Then referring to the long and agonizing 
distress which he had suffered through the alarming 
indisposition of his dearest connexions, and which 
seemed now happily removing, he said, "This severe 
affliction has not been sent, but for reasons the wis- 
est and the best: from it I have learned many les~ 



s'ifhsi and have enjoyed much of the presence of 
Gocl under it. O may my heart be filled with grat- 
itude to Him who is the author of all our mercies" 
He frequently bathed; he found it beneficial to his 
health. He purposed doing so that day, and had 
expressed his intention in the morning. He fnd 
just repeated the first verse of Cowper's admirable 
hymn,— . 

£? God moves In a Hystericus way? 

His wonders to perform, 
He plants his footsteps in the sea. 

And rides upon the storm," 

when one of the family came into the room, and sakT, 
that if he intended bathing, it was time that he should 
go, as it would very soon be high water. He as- 
sented; but wnilst a towel was being procured for 
him, he turned to his young friend, and said, U I can't 
tell how it is, but I don't feel so much inclined to 
go, to-day, as usual. ?? She asked if it was thought 
good for his health — he answered "Yes, it will brace 
my nerves after the -exertion of yesterday. ' ? And, 
indeed, he had an immediate object in view, for he 
had folded his paper, and prepared his pen, in ordtr 
to compose a sermon to be preached in the course of 
the ensuing week, on behalf of the Religious Tract 
Society, in London; and he was anxious that, by 
bathing, his mind might be invigorated for study, as 
he had frequent!} 7 observed it to have that pleasing 
influence. Mr. Spencer and his friend left the house 
together, when turning towards the water, he said, 
"1 must go this way." They parted. His friend 
sought again the bosom of her family — he went the 
way whence he never returned! 



233 

The Following pages of this history must be filled 
with weeping, and lamentation, and wo. They 
must detail as fad a catastrophe as ever humanity or* 
religion mourned. With cheerfulness Mr. Spencer 
took the path which leads across the fields towards 
the Herculaneuni potteries, a little above which it 
was his design to bathe. The eye of his friend, be- 
neath whose roof he dwelt, followed him till distance 
hid him from his sight. Arrived at the spot which 
he had selected, not so much from a knowledge of 
the ground, as from the circumstance of its retire- 
ment, he asked a gentleman, who had been bathing, 
and who then was dressing, "if that was a good place 
to baivie at?"—- he answered that it was, but that it 
was rather stony near the side* but better when fur- 
therin. Mr. Spencer replied, "I rather think it is 
a good place myself, and I don't like to bathe near 
the pottery, there are so many people." Mr. S. then 
asked again, "Is the tide nigh up?*' to which he was 
answered, "About half past eleven." "Oh! dear/ 5 
said Mr. Spencer, "ii is near twelve."— As this con- 
versation passed, Mr. Spencer was undressing, and, 
at intervals, humming a tune. When undressed, -he 
walked towards the water, and spoke to a workman 
belonging to the pottery, of the name of Potter, who 
also was bathing, and who directed him which way 
to come into the water* While walking in, Mr. 
Spencer observed, that is was very cold— to which 
Potter replied, "You will not find it so cold when in." 
Potter then plunged into the water about breast high, 
and when he next saw -Mr. Snencer, he was swimming 
within his depth, but soon afterwards the tide swepc- 
him round an abrupt projecting rock, where the wa- 
ter was from- six to seven feet. Potter himself, who 
is an expert swimmer, soon found the current driving 
*2& 



244 



Mm round the same rock; but he immediately, with 
difficulty, swam to the shore, when he looked abou* 
for Mr. Spencer, and, not seeing hirn, was muc 



a 



nlarmed. At length, after the lapse of a minute or 
two, he saw the top of his head floating above the 
surface of the water, Poller could not tell whether 
he was amusing himself or drowning* He however 
cried out to him; but receiving no answer, plunged 
ill again, and swam to the rock, in order to render 
him assistance— but found it impossible— Mr. Spen- 
cer having sunk in seven feet water, and the currents 
being remarkably strong. Potter, with considerable 
trouble, and not till some time had elapsed, got up 
the side of the rock, and communicated the hiielli- 
genee to Mr. Smith, of the potteries, who immedi- 
ately ordered out two boats,* which were directly 
manned and brought to the spot, when every exer- 
tion was made to find the body. 

I have frequently examined the place; indeed, I 
take a mournful pleasure in visiting the scene; and 
I have sought the opinion of medical gentlemen re- 
specting the immediate cause of Mr. Spencer's death, 
The spot is most unfavorable for safe and pleasant 
bathing. Whoever siis it at low water, is astonish- 
ed that any person, acquainteel with the nature of 
the shore, should venture there. There is a ridge 
of sharp and slippery rock, running in a curved di- 
rection, for many yards, into the water, and termi- 
nating abruptly; on either side of this most rugged 
ridge the fall is instantaneous, and from one to two 
feet. It is highly probable, then, that Mr. S. swim- 
ming, as was described, along by the shore, might 
bring himself up immediately on the edge of this 
'treacherous roek, which being slippery, deceived 
him, and by suddenly precipitating him into deeper 



235 



water, caused a spasmodic!* fear—a combination of 
instantaneous terror and spasm, —which directly 
suspended the functions of life, and he sunk, without 
further agitation or conflict, in the arms of death, 

"So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, 

And yet anon repairs his drooping bead, 

And nicks his beams, and with new spangled ore 

Flames in the forehead of the morning sky; 

So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high, 

Through the dear might of him that waik'd the waves; 

Where, other groves and other streams along., 

With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, 

And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, 

In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love* 

There entertain him all the saints above, 

In solemn troops and sweet societies, 

That sing, and, singing in their glory, move, 

And wipe the tears forever from his eyes. 5 j 

In the meanwhile, the gentleman whom Mr. Spen- 
cer first addressed, returned, and, discovering the 
sad event, apprized them that it was Mr. Spencer, 
the minister, who was lost. Potter renewed his ex- 
ertions to find the body, assisted by the people in 
the boats, in which they at length succeeded, after 
it had been under water about fifty minutes, By 
this time the melancholy tidings had spread abroaa; 
and happily some gentlemen of the faculty being in 
the neighborhood, and hearing of the event, hastened 
immediately to the spot, so that, ere the finding of 
the body, every thing was in readiness for instantly 
commencing the resuscitating process. 

When drawn from the water, the body exhibited 
no symptoms of violence or struggle in the act of 
dying — the countenance was placid and serene — its 
features were perfectly undisturbed, and so lovely 
was its expression in death, that one of the medical 



236" 

attendants observed;— a painter could not desire a 
finer object! 

On the arrival of the body on the beach, the water 
was easily expelled, and being then wrapped up in 
flannel, it was immediately conveyed to the house of 
Mr. Smith, where, by the kind exertions of the fam- 
ily, every necessary arrangement had been made for 
iu reception. 

The apparatus having arrived -from- Liverpool, and 
three medical gentlemen being present to receive 
the body, the usual methods adopted in cases of sus- 
pended animation were instantly pursued. They were 
soon joined by three other gentlemen of the faculty, 
who rendered every possible assistance; every ex- 
pedient was, in the course of the afternoon, reported 
to — -but aias in vain! and at five o'clock, in the opin- 
ion of all present, there remained not the faintest 
hope of restoring animation — the spark of life was 
totally extinguished. 

Thus, in one sad moment, was lost to society and 
to the church of Christ, one of the loveliest of men- 
one of the most eloquent of ministers: upon whose 
lips, only the preceding day, hundreds had hung 
with delight, and the long continued and extended 
exertion of whose powers, in a larger sanctuary, 
the foundation of which he had but recently laid, 
thousands anticipated with eager desire! To tell how 
many hearts have bled, beneath mis awful visitation, 
would require a fortitude which I* do not possess — 
and constitute a volume not surpassed, in the an- 
gush which it would describe, by any similar catas- 
trophe in the records of human wo. The tidings 
spread through the populous town of Liverpool, with 
a rapidity, such as, in cases of public calamity, is 
usually inspired. They circulated through all ranks, 



and excited one common feeling of regret in every 
bosom. The)' reached the exchange, and produced 
an extraordinary impression there; those who knew 
him, mourned the loss of one they loved— and those 
who knew him not, felt the agitation of that sudden 
shock, which the premature removal of soch men 
occasions — they participated in the general sympa- 
thy—and deplored the loss of Spencer, as an event 
demanding general regret! Numbers hastened to the 
spot. Some incredulous, to obtain the sad assurance 
of the truth— and others to enjoy the mournful satis- 
faction of beholding that countenance in death, on 
which they had often gazed with transport, when 
kindled into radiance by the ardor of the soul that 
latdy climated it. All was confusion and distress. 
Such a day has been seldom seen in Liverpool; a 
day of such dreadful gloom—such universal grief. 
From the countenance of every one to whom the 
tidings came, one mi^ht have imagined he had lost a 
friend; — whilst many, to whom by intimate acquain- 
tance he had become peculiarly endeared— petrified 
at first with mingled horror and surprise, when re- 
collection and feeling returned, yielded, for awhile, 
to the influence of the deepest sorrow. 

The estimation in which Mr. Spencer was held 
in Liverpool was most decidedly marked after his 
decease. The public prints severally bore testimony 
to his worth, and pronounced a warm, but just eulo* 
gium on his extraordinary merits: the introduction 
of some extracts will not be unsuitable here. 

ct Mr. Spencer was about twenty years of age; in 
his person and countenance eminently prepossessing,' 
and of manners most amiable, conciliating, and en- 
gaging. As a preacher, his talents were, held in a 



2383 

degree of estimation, and possessed an extent of in- 
fluence, which have seldom been equalled in the an- 
nals of pulpit eloquence. His discourses were rath- 
er persuasive and hortatory, than argumentative, or 
disquisitive: they were addressed more to the imag- 
ination and ''affections, .than to the judgment; and 
this, apparently, not so nn from any deficiency 
of talent, as from a firm persuasion, that, in matters 
of religion, the avenues to the* understanding are 
chiefly to be sought in the heart. His sermons, 
thus constituted, were adorned with a felicity of ex- 
pression, and delivered i a an unremitted fluency of 
language, altogether surprising in extemporaneous 
discourses. These essential qualities of eloquence 
were assisted by an uncommonly distinct * media- 
tion, a tone of voice singularly melodious, and great 
gracefulness of action. Thus gifted by nature, and 
improved by cultivation, it is not surprising that he 
possessed -the power of attaching an audience, in a 
manner that will never be forgotten by those who 
attended his ministry Perhaps it scarcely ever be- 
fore fell to the lot of any individual, at so early an 
age, to have diffused religious impression through 
so extensive a circle of hearers; and those who look* 
ed forward to the maturity of his powers, with the 
hope naturally inspired by his early excellence, will 
regard his loss as a public misfortune." 

"The deceased was about twenty years of age, a 
youth of amiable and engaging manners; and his pul- 
pit talents were so far above his years, as to obtain 
for him a large share of public admiration and popu- 
larity. His premature death has most deeply affectedAL 
the feelings of h'ft numerous friends, who looked fo^W 
ward to the maturity of his early powers, with tl 



"liighest hope of obtaining in him a most valuable ac- 
cession to the dissenting ministry." 

But at the solemnities of interment, the strongest 
demonstration of public feeling was afforded. The 
concourse of people assembled to witness or assist in 
the last sad token of respect to his remains was never, 
perhaps, equalled in Liverpool. Religion, Human- 
ity, Friendship, and Genius, mingled their tears at 
his grave. The funeral took place on Tuesday, the 
13th August, 1811: the procession moved from the 
Park about eleven in the morning, in the following 
order:— 

The Gentlemen of the Faculty; 
Ministers, four abreast; 



W$z 3SoD& 



The Pall supported by Ten Ministers, five on each side; 

The Mourners; 

Friends of the deceased, 

To the number of One Hundred and Thirty, 

.With white hat-bands and gloves, 

Six abreast. 

All the streets through which the procession passed 
-were crowded to excess, as also were the windows 
and balconies of the houses. But the greatest deco- 
rum was observed — and a seriousness, according 
with the solemn occasion was manifested by all. The 
corpse was borne into the chapel, late the scene of 
Mr. Spencer's" labors, and the Rev. Mr. C harrier, of 
flBethesda chapel, read part of the 15th chapter of the 
1st of Corinthians, and the 4th and 5th of the 1st of 
Thessalonians, and offered a most solemn prayer. 
,At the grave an eloquent and impressive oration was 



■ 2m 

delivered by the Rev. Joseph Fletcher, A. M. of 
Blackburn. The mournful service was concluded 
by a prayer from the Rev. Mr. Lister, of Lime street 
chapel. 

"The whole scene," a Liverpool journal observes f 
"was affecting— it could not be otherwise. Every 
idea which could foe associated with the spectacle 
was such as to excite the deepest sympathy. The 
flower of youth , scarcely opened, snatched from the 
stem of life by a sudden and rude attack of mortal- 
ity: a minister, who lately fixed the attention of 
crowded audiences by the power of his eloquence, 
conveyed to the house of silence and darkness; the 
fairest prospects of honor and usefulness in life blasted; 
the warm hopes of his friends wrecked in a moment; 
and the deep, the dreadful wound inflicted in the feel- 
ings of relatives, and the dearest connexions. Such, 
however, are the appointments of a supreme govern- 
ing Intelligence, to which human choice and wishes 
must bow with reverence^ supported by the general 
principle of the justice, wisdom, and benevolence, 
which direct the affairs of mem Similar afflictions 
are of frequent occurrence in private life, though they 
there pass unnoticed* Public characters excite at ten- 
:k>rv both in their zenith and fait; and so far as society 
is bereft of virtue, useful talents, and active zeal, 
their death is a public calamity. 5 ' 

On the following Sunday evening, a funeral ser- 
mon was preached at Nevvington Chapel, by the 
Rev. William Roby, of Manchester, from Heb. xiii, 
7, 8, ^ Remember them who have the rule over you, 
who have spoken unto you the -word of God; whose 
faith follow i considering the end of their conversation: 
Jesus Christy t lie same yesterday % and to-day, and for- 
everJ This sermon, so admirably adapted to sooth 



241 

the disconsolate congregation to whom it was ad- 
dressed, has been presented to them, by its respected 
author, from the press. 

But not in Liverpool alone was the shock of Mr* 
Spencer's death felt — or the loss occasioned by his 
sudden removal deplored. Scarcely was there a dis- 
trict in Britain to which the melancholy tidings did 
not reach. The universal esteem in which the be- 
loved youth was held, was manifested by the numer- 
ous sermons which were preached throughout the 
country, to embalm his memory, and to improve his 
death. In London several were delivered, — many 
singularly eloquent and appropriate; several have 
issued from the press, and have been noticed in the 
preceding pages. The sympathy awakened for the 
mourning church, was as general as the regret occa- 
sioned by their pastor's death. Of Spencer it may be 
truly said, 'devout men carried him to his burial^ and 
made great lamentation over him? whilst the situation 
of his bereaved people, excited in every bosom com- 
passion and grief, 'for they were left as sheep without 
a shepherd? 

It now remains that I present the reader with a 
general sketch of Mr. Spencer's character. The op* 
portunity afforded in such works as these, of illus- 
trating great and important principles, in their influ- 
ence upon human conduct, ought to be seized with 
avidity, and improved with care. In this respect 
Biography is particularly valuable, and possesses a 
considerable advantage over general history. The 
subjects and characters of general history are numer- 
ous, complicated, and often but indistinctly seen — ■ 
here the object is single. The mind dwells, without 
diversion or distraction, on the character presented to 
its contemplation. Being relieved from the toil which 
21 



•242 

variety occasions, it has leisure -to dwell upon its sev- 
eral features, and to observe their mutual influence 
or associated harmony. The scenes, and events of 
an individual's life, when faithfully and judiciously 
recorded, are admirably adapted to deVelope the for- 
mation of character— whilst lessons of wisdom, and 
principles of action are better under-stood, and more 
correctly appreciated, when drawn out in the scenes 
of actual life, than they possibly can be, when sim- 
ply, and abstractedly delivered. And, moreover, the 
peculiar sentiments which the delineation of certain 
characters is especially calculated to illustrate, are 
better remembered, when associated with names, 
with places, and with deeds; whilst they make a far 
deeper impression upon the heart, from the circum- 
stance that their nature and tendency are at once de- 
monstrated^ by the actual consequences to which, in 
these individual cases they have led. In the pages 
of the biographer, the man lives again for us. "Be- 
ing dead he yet speaketh." We are put in posses- 
sion, in an hour or two, of knowledge, which it cost 
him years of anxious labor to acquire. We obtain 
confidence— we awake to an honorable ambition — 
we feel the animating influence of hope, whilst we 
mark the excellencies of his character, and the suc- 
cessful labors of his life. Self-examination is in- 
duced, by a contemplation of his failings — -and cau- 
tion, by the disclosure of his errors. Humility is 
promoted, by observing with how much imperfec- 
xion the noblest and the loveliest qualities in man 
are unhappily combined — and the provision which 
the gospel makes for our final acceptance with 
God, derives importance and value from the assur- 
ance, ivhich every faithful piece of biography mus: 
$pi)$ to establish,— that the purest character — the 



243 

feirest life, must sink before the high standard and 
demands of Jehovah's perfect law. 

In calling the attention of my readers to views 
of Mr Spencer's character, I am aware that the ob- 
jection may be started — -that in one so young, a char- 
acter could hardly be formed at alh The objection 
is founded in reason. But although his character 
had not obtained its maturity— or assumed those 
fixed and established habits, with which years and 
experience w~ould have invested it— still it had ar- 
rived at such a stage of its progress, as already to 
present strong lines, and obvious features. Some, 
so deeply marked as to be recognised by all who" 
knew him — and others, upon the infancy of which, 
the eyes of his most intimate associates dwelt, with 
unspeakable delight* Andj young as it wa£, the 
character of Spencer at the age of twenty^ Was such, 
as even an aged Christian might not blush to own. 
I have often gazed, with pleasure, on the animating 
picture which my fancy drew, when it has added 
years of experience and of culture, to what was the 
character of Spencer at his deaths and imaged to 
itself what, after the lapse of time, that character 
might possibly have been; and when recalled from 
the delightful reverie, I have mourned that the love- 
ly object existed only in my fancy. But we do 
wrong to mourn. His removal from our world was 
the dictate alike of Infinite Wisdom and Love, 
And the time appointed for his departure was the 
best. His character had attained that degree of ma- 
turity, for which God has destined it, on earth — he 
had performed the service which he was called to 
accomplish in the church. His sun rose with al- 
most unexampled rapidity to its meridian — his work 
was completed with prodigious speed — yet, having 



244 

reached his appointed elevation, raid performed his 
allotted hbor—that was the suitable period for his 
removal. He had witnessed as much impression 
and effect, in his short ministry, as many an aged 
pastor would rejoice to observe, after years of inces- 
sant toil. Can his death be considered, then, as 
premature? If one laborer accomplishes his share 
of the day's exertion an hour or two earlier than 
his companions, may he not be permitted to retire 
to his rest before them?—- Spencer has finished his 
course— he rests from his labors— and his works 
do follow him* 

- AS A MAN, 

He was generous — frank— in-dependent- — 

7JNAPFECTED — UNSUSPECTING; — and SINCERE. 

Generous; his heart, his hand, and his purse, were 
ever at the service of the needy, and cheerfully de- 
voted to the cause of Christ. An instance of his 
generosity has been recorded in the preceding nar- 
rative—that of his usually adding to the collection, 
when he preached for the benefit of a poor church 
that had an aged minister, One of the last acts of 
his life was an act of benevolence; he had no money 
about him, at the time of his death, for he had emp- 
tied his pockets to a poor person, previous to his 
leaving the house on the morning of that awful day. 
Had he lived to be the possessor of a house, and the 
head of a family, from him the apostolic injunction, 
'given to hospitality? would have met with a spon- 
taneous acquiescence. Unhappily, this qualification 
of a Christian bishop, some of our worthy pastors 

have it not in their power to display! Frank; 

he was open and ingenuous; his sentiments were 
ever undisguised; his language spoke correctly 



245 

what he thought and felt; and his countenance was 
an index to his mind. Truly was it said of him. 
that he carried his heart in a crystal vase, so that 
all could see it. His opinions he never attempted 
to conceal; his attachments and his dislikes were, 
..with equal freedom and sincerity, declared. The 
prudent will say, it displayed but little knowledge 
of mankind; true: he was ignorant, and therefore un~ 
suspecting, and often unguarded. He did not calcu- 
late upon treachery, under the garb of friendship — - 
or censorious observation, in the social circle. Alasl- 
that experience should only tend to make a man 
suspicious, and intercourse with society render him 
sceptical ia his opinions of his fellow men! Inde- 
pendent; perhaps, too much so, for his station as a 
minister of the gospel, and especially as the pastor 
of a churcho He had his partialities and predilec- 
tions,— every man must have them — he cannot be 
brought, by any discipline to love that which is to- 
tally uncongenial to his taste and habits, however 
he may be inclined to cherish and testify a deference 
and respect. But these. predilections, Spencer was 
ever ready to declare; and such was his indepen- 
dent spirit, that no consideration of interest could 
induce him to utter a compliment or pay an atten- 
tion which was foreign from his purpose, or re- 
pugnant to his feelings. To all> he cheerfully paid 
the regard which the obligations of his station 
claimed; but only with such as his heart and feel- 
ings approved, did he share the social intercourse, 
or the endearments of friendship. And, surely, a 
man in public life, whilst he pays to all around 
him such attentions as the functions of his office 
involve, has a right to select the individuals with 
whom he will share the social hour, or to who.nv. 
*2i. 



246 

he may commit the mere sacred and retired feel- 
ings of his heart. Yet, even here, prudence would 
suggest certain cautions particularly adapted to 
the very delicate circumstances in which the pas- 
tor of a church is placed. — —Unaffected; every 
thing like affectation and display, he abhorred — ev 
ery thing feminine and soft in manners, he exces- 
sively disliked. His own were the reverse; they 
were characterized by impetuosity and boldness— 
a decision and a promptitude marked every thing he 
did. There was often a carelessness about his dress, 
arising from that indifference to shew and decora- 
tion, which, in every thing, he displayed. So neg- 
lectful was he of his appearance, that he did not wear 
a watch, till urged repeatedly by the want of it, heat 
length purchased one. He observed to a friend a 
circumstance connected with the purchase of this 
watch, not perhaps unworthy of insertion. He ask- 
ed the man of whom he bought the watch if what 
he demanded was his lowest price? "Yes, Sir, 55 said 
the man; "I heard you preach upon seeing Abra- 
ham, and Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of God, 
and I will not overcharge you" He loved to preach 
in a gown; it tended, he said, to conceal his youth,, 
and give weight to his sermon, — otherwise he was 
indifferent about it. How far this may be considered 
as sufficient reason for wearing a gown, 1 cannot de- 
termine; certainly, there are matters of higher mo- 
ment than this; and it is surely cause of regret, that 
great and good men should ever grow warm, and say 
or do strong things, upon a subject, confessedly so 

inferior in importance.- Unsuspecting — he formed 

an estimate of every individual's bosom by the in- 
genuousness of his own; no wonder then, if some- 
times he should have erred, and the error prove a 



247 

source of poignant anguish and unavailing regret. 
He who has never seen a storm, may, all unconscious 
of his danger, trust the syren sea; but he who has 
endured the tempest will mark well the signs of the 
sky, ere he tempt the treacherous element that has 
once deceived-— Sincere; to have his hand, was to 
possess his heart; and where he could not give the 
latter, he never presented the former. Whatever he 
said he uttered from conviction; and on every assur* 
ance. the firmest reliance might be placed. 

AS A FRIEND, 

He was warm—disinterested— -and affec- 
tionate. The fervor of his friendship is suffi- 
ciently displayed in the correspondence preserved in 
the preceding pages. His whole soul seems infus- 
ed into his paper; and, if such were his letters, hap- 
py must they esteem themselves who were favored 
with his private walks and most retired intercourse. 
<k Iiis friendship, I can truly say/ 5 observes his most 
intimate companion, 6i has given me one of the most 
lively views that I ever enjoyed of union and com- 
munion with the spirits of just men made perfect.—* 
1 shall not easily forget the impression of awe upon 
my mind while hearing him preach at White's Row, 
from these words: — "Because there is wrath, beware 
lest he take thee away at a stroke, then a great ran- 
-$om cannot deliver thee" I thought, I surely caa\ 
r.ever more use the freedom of friendship with him. 
But at his descent from the pulpit, his sparkling eye,, 
friendly squeeze, and affectionate pressure of my 
arm to his side as we returned, convinced me that 
lie was still the humble, interesting youth with whom 
I had takea sweet counsel, and walked to that house 
©£ God. )9 Nor was he guided in the formation of 



248 

his friendships by a principle of interest. This in- 
deed governs the world in their associations;—* 

6{ And what is friendship but a name 5 

A charm that lulls to sleep, 
A sliade that follows weakh or fame* 

But leaves the wretch to weep." 

But he sought not high connexions— exalted friend- 
ships— or splendid alliances— he shrunk from gran- 
deur, pomp, and parade— he felt uneasy when sur- 
rounded by any thing like splendor— he preferred 
the calm mediocrity of life, as furnishing* for the 
most part, excellence in character^ and comfort in 

intercourse! -Of his affection, it were in vain to 

speak— no language can describe all the tenderness 
of his affectionate heart— affection the purest and 
most refined. The following is the testimony of 
one who deeply participated in it: — - 

And surely I may experimentally say, that a more 
affectionate spirit than that of Spencer never animat- 
ed a fallen son of Adam. When we first met he un- 
bosomed himself, freely claimed my friendship, with 
an affection that overpowered me, and entreated 
the fidelity pi friendship, charging me to watch him 
narrowly, and point out every imperfection. If ev- 
er the delightful scene recorded 1 Samuel xviii, 1, 
was reiterated, (and doubtless it often has been) it 
was when Spencer had made an end of speaking. But 
proofs of the affection of Spencer's heart are totally 
unnecessary. I shall mention one only. Soon after 
we berime acquainted, he used to call generally on 
a Saturday evening—'Well, where shall you be to- 
morrow? with Mr. Foster I supposed * VVhy, I sup- 
pose so too, unless you draw me away' 4 I am sure, 
I should ba sorry to draw you away, if you do not 



see It right: I am sure you must be a loser by hear- 
ing me instead of i\lr. Foster; yet if you could see 
it right, I should be very glad.' When he preached 
in the country, he used, he said, to look round for a 
retired corner for me, such as I should like if there. 
At Hoxton, he pointed out a seat for me, and when 
he rose from prayer, used to see if I filled it." 

AS A STUDENT, 

He was diligent — conscientious — and suc- 
cessful.— Diligent; to a habit of study he had been 
inured almost from his infancy — the elements of 
knowledge he obtained under peculiar difficulty — 
and had he not been inspired by an ardent love of 
that sacred work, for the honorable discharge of 
which, he deemed the acquisition of human learning 
necessary, his name would probably never have been 
known beyond the circles of his native town. But 
he longed for the acquisition of knowledge ? not from 
a principle of self-gratification, or the love of fame, 
but as an auxiliary to his great design. Impelled 
by such a powerful principle, he sought for it with 
unceasing avidity — and labored in its pursuit with 
unconquerable ardor. But it was his lot to meet 
with a continued chain of obstacles to the free and 
pmple gratification of his taste for learning. In his 
childhood, the circumstances of his family were in- 
auspicious, and he was compelled, at a period when 
the powers of his mind were unfolding, to devote 
those hours to manual labor, which he would have 
gladly consecrated to books. The year he spent at 
Harwich was the only year of uninterrupted study 
he enjoyed; for very soon after his entrance into 
Hoxton Academy he began to preach — and then, 
his popularity formed a most serious and insurmount- 



able barrier— whilst, after his settlement in the min- 
istry, the important duties of his new and extensive 
sphere of action forbad the indulgence of any pursuits 
in private, but such as bore immediately upon his 
public work. 

These circumstances, however, taught him the 
value of retirement, and instructed him in the happy 
art of husbanding his time. This art he cultivated 
with conscientious care-^-and whoever contemplates 
the numerous papers he has left behind, and com- 
pares them with the public engagements he perform* 
ed, must be sensibly impressed with a conviction of 
his diligence. He never entered the pulpit without 
previous preparation. Most of his sermons were 
written throughout, exeept the heads of application^ 
in which he usually trusted to the ardor of his mind, 
enkindled by the subject which he had discussed, 
and guided by a holy influence. Not that he slavish- 
ly committed his compositions to his memory, and 
delivered them by rote. For, although his discourse 
es were thus pre-composed, and numbers of them 
remain, yet nGt one conveys a correct idea of what 
his preachng actually was* The reason is, that in 
the pulpit he followed, not so much the impression 
of his written language on the memory, as the holy 
and ardent bias of his soul> flowing in the channel 
which he had previously prepared. The sermon in 
the study was completely formed— correctly arrang- 
ed^ — and well connected — but to the lifeless form, 
delineated on his paper, and impressed upon his 
memory, in the pulpit he imparted a living soul; a 
principle of ardent piety, which operated as a charm, 
the power of which few were able to resist. 

Indeed so uniform was his habit of preparation for 
the pulpit, that when called upon suddenly to address 



25i 

some young persons, he said to a friend, "I wish you 
would address the children for me this afternoon; I 
have not prepared any thing — I have not considered 
a subject for them, and I would not offer, even to a 
child i that which cost me nothing." 

But although this was his usual custom, yet, when 
extraordinary circumstances conspire to render a de- 
parture from it necessary, he could, with the greatest 
propriety and ease, delight and interest an audience 
from the rich treasures of his exal'ed mind. One 
instance of his powers, in extemporary and unpre* 
meditated address^ is related of him in Liverpool. 
Some important affair of a public nature engaged the 
general attention of the religious world, on a Sabbath 
evening, when as usual he had to preach; and, antic- 
ipating a thin attendance, he had prepared a sermon 
adapted to the supposed state of his auditory — but, 
when he reached the chapel, and saw it filled with 
^anxious crowds, waiting to receive from his lips the 
words of life— his ardent mind seemed instantly in- 
spired— -he immediately fixed upon a passage more 
adapted to the scene: and with his pencil sketched 
the outline of a discourse, which, perhaps, in the 
whole series of his ministry, he never excelled. 

But Mr. Spencer's diligence did not expend itself 
on commentators and elaborate pulpit compositions — ■ 
he endeavored to study Providence — to improve 
events — and, so far as he had opportunity, to read 
mankind. His sentiments on this subject may be in 
the recollection of the reader** I believe he uniform- 
ly acted in accordance with them; and especially had 
an opportunity of doing this when he became the pas- 
tor of a church. The propriety — the importance—. 

* Seepage 157. 



252 

the utility of this kind of study, to a minister, is too 
obvious to need discussion. To its aid may be at- 
tributed^ in a great measure, that adaptation to the 
ever varying scenes of the Christian life, which the 
sermons of Spencer usually possessed. He studied 
the characters of the people of God- — he marked with 
care the variations of their experience — the alterna- 
tion of their feelings— and the vicissitudes of their 
enjoyment. Indeed, his knowledge in this respect 
was most amazing, especially in one so young. He 
seemed to know, and sweetly to divulge, what every 
Christian felt and mourned— and he had a balm of 
consolation for every sorrow he awakened— every 
wound he probed — As a student he was 

Conscientious. He was so, in maintaining a habit 
of study, after the restraints of the college were with- 
drawn. Too many imagine, that what is improperly 
called, finishing their studies — that is, concluding 
their academic course, is in fact the legitimate close 
of all mental labor, Upon the stores then acquired, 
they are to feed, through the long years of an ex- 
tended ministry, the church of God with wisdom 
and knowledge. Alas! for the people over whom 
such a pastor presides. The stores of that mind 
must be but scanty at the best, and soon expended; 
what then but mental and spiritual famine must en- 
sue. Ill does it bode for a congregation, when their 
minister is a lover of pleasure — a lover of society — 
a lover of mirth — more than a lover of study. Peo- 
ple should remember this, and should act accord- 
ingly. They love to have things brought from the 
sacred treasury before them, new as well as old — but 
the new cannot be obtained without research, nor the 
old presented, in an attractive form, without thought. 
To all this, time, and that no scanty portion, must 



253 

be devoted. And the hours of study must be taken 
either from the day, or from the night — if from the 
night, it impairs the health — if from the day, if must 
abridge them of their minister's society. A congre- 
gation, then, cannot with justice expect to see their 
pastor always in their social circles, and yet 'demand 
from him on the Sabbath, what much and intense ap- 
plication only can enable him to produce. A alia* 
ister worthy of his people's affection cannot be too 
much esteemed, nor his society too highly valued — 
but even this authorized attachment may be carried 
to an injurious length — a people may desire too 
much — God may gratify their wish— he may send 
thern a busy body in the form, and with the preten- 
sions of a minister — and it may be said of them, < he 
gave them their request , but sent leanness into their 
soul.' For an unoccupied study, must cause, even- 
tually, an empty mind. 

Mr Spencer was conscientious in the direction 
which he gave to his studies, Aware that he had but 
little time for preparatory labor, and a mighty work 
before him, we have already seen, that at Hoxton, 
whilst he performed with cheerfulness and credit the 
d ties of his class, in the various departments of lit- 
erature and science, vet he consecrated the first and 
most constant exercises of his mind to such studies 
as were immediately connected with preaching, and 
the pastoral office.* And when actually em barked 
in his most arduous profession, the little time he 
could procure for study he found too precious for 
the pursuit of any object whose claims, in connexion 
with the ministry, might hold but a secondary rank. 
Hence he pursued not so much the study of general 



22 



254 

literature, as that of Theology, Aware that tbe 
sources of this sacred science, are the holy scriptures, 
and that to understand them correctly, requires an 
accurate knowledge of their original languages, he 
cultivated with great e&ie, the study of the Hebrew 
and the Greek. To the former of these tongues he 
was peculiarly attached— his early labors in it have 
been already stated^ and I believe that his profi- 
ciency bore a just proportion to his exertions. On 
theology he read very extensively, and for the most 
part the productions of the puritan divines. His 
library was small — it was but in its infancy; but it 
was well chosen. His study, which remained pre- 
cisely in the state in which he left it on the morning 
of his death, was an object of considerable curiosity 
to the inhabitants and visitors of Liverpool: many 
judicious and venerable ministers came to see it, and 
all expressed their admiration of the taste which he 
displayed in the selection of his books. There was 
scarcely a volume that did not bear most obviously 
on the work of the ministry. The cast of a man's 
mind may be gathered from an inspection of his 
library, if the volumes composing it have been of 
his own selection. Whoever should form an esti- 
mate of Spencer's character from his books, must 
pronounce him a sound and well-informed divine. 

As a student he was successful If a man may be 
deemed successful who accomplishes what he pro- 
poses to himself, he certainly was so. He never de- 
sired to be a profound mathematician — an acute phi- 
losopher—or an accomplished classic — but a useful' 
preacher — a good divine. As a preacher, few could 
Compare with him — as a divine, he surpassed mo^t of 



255 

His contemporaries, of the same age and standing. 
But his attainments in classical literature were far 
from being scanty; that he had read the best Greek 
and Roman authors, with considerable advantage, 
was obvious from the purity and elegance of his style. 
And in the perusal of those English writers, most 
justly celebrated for the correctness of their reason- 
ing, and the chasteness of their composition — he was 
well trained, whilst under the tuition of his excellent 
and revered friend at Harwich. Upon most subjects 
he was well informed, and could converse with ease. 
H« disliked controversy, at any rate in public, how- 
ever he might be disposed to try his strength in pri- 
vate. His chief excellence did not lie in the power 
of conducting a deep 3 an intricate, and long contin- 
ued process of reasoning to a triumphant close. He 
rather excelled in clearly unfolding the more promi- 
nent features of the gospe! — in stating with correct- 
ness the great truths of Christiinitj% and supporting 
them by arguments purely scriptural — for such dis- 
cussions he was amply furnished. His knowledge 
of the Bible was most extensive, and his quotations 
from it were, in general, remarkably apt and striking. 
But it was in prayer, chiefly, that his fimiliarity with 
the Bible was observed. Not a sentiment escaped 
him, for which he had not suitable language borrow- 
ed from the scriptures: and this rendered his prayers 
peculiarly rich, simple, and appropriate. 

Of elegant accomplishments he possessed but lit- 
tle. I believe he never touched the pencil. He 
was fond of music, but he used no instrument, and 
though perpetually humming tunes to favorite 
hymns, he was not a good singer. Henvas much 
devoted to the love of poetry .especially that of Mil- 
ton, Young, Cowper, and Kirk White. He was ex- 



256 

ceedingly attached to Kelly's hymns, and frequently 
repeated from them, with great fervor and delight* 
When a boy he courted the muse himself, but not 
with much success. Though not disciplined in the 
schools of fashionable life, his manners were easy, 
and his action graceful; and the^e, added to a lovely T 
countenance, and an elegant form, rendered him in- 
teresting, both in his public engagements, and in his 
private intercourse. 

AS A CHRISTIAN, 

He was fervent — holy — and humble.-^jPV* 
vent;, his piety was the ardor of an unquencha- 
ble flame. With him religion was no matter of 
mere profession and convenience; nor did it lose its 
impression by the frequent recurrence of its subjects 
and its duties— he seemed to live under its abiding 
influence — it was wrought into the constitution of his 
-jiature — its principles were the springs — its precepts 
the rule — its objects the end of all his actions. To 
this he ever had respect — what opposed it he hear- 
tily abhorred — what clashed with it he cheerfully re- 
signed — what injured it he conscientiously avoided. 
His love to God was ardent. In this I think he 
much resembled Mr. Pearce, of Birmingham; and, 
indeed, often, when contemplating the life of Spen- 
cer, my thoughts have involuntarily recurred to cer- 
tain traits of character, preserved in the memoirs of 
that glorified saint. * His love to God shed a glori- 
ous lustre on his whole character and conduct; every 
thing that came within the sphere of his influence or 
operation was irradiated by it. But chiefly would I 
confine myself now to the influence of this noble 

* See Memoirs of the llev. Samuel Pearce, A. M. with extracts from some 
of his most interesting letters, by Andrew Fuller. 



257 

principle upon himself. It inspired him with a love 
of piety: as a Christian he was eminent for 

Holiness, He contemplated the character of God, 
and was attracted to it by its purity, "I shall not, 55 
says his friend, "easily forget the delight which 
sparkled in his eye when conversing upon the divine 
attribute— holiness. 4 Hovv sweet, 3 said he, 'is that 
word holy!-— holy Father — holy Savior— holy Spirit—— 
holy scriptures. Surely if there is one word dearer 
to me than another, it is the word holy" During 
his residence at Hoxton, the same friend observed 
to a student in the institution, whose attention he 
wished to direct to the character of Spencer, "Per- 
haps you perceive youthful levity in him?" "No," 
he replied, "I have remarked him particularly, but 
it was for his spirituality?* 

His ardent love of holiness enkindled and cherish* 
ed in his bosom a corresponding hatred to sin; and 
so strong was this principle of love to God, that 
the dread of offending his purity sometimes amount- 
ed almost to terror, and enveloped his mind in most 
distressing gloom. A paper composed at one of these 
melancholy seasons of depression has been recently- 
discovered; it is entitled. 



"Miserable ills under which I dailt 

GROAN." 
BODILY, 

An incessant bilious complaint. 
General languor, nervous feeling, and head-ache. 
The fatigues of my great and repeated exertions in 
preaching. 

%2% 



258 



MENTAL, 



The illness of- 



The awful weight of responsibility attaching to the 
ministerial work! 

The extreme distance between myself and my old, 
choice, and invaluable friends. 

The impossibility I discover of visiting all the peo- 
ple I wish. 

The little time I can appropriate to study. 

The dreadful state of coldness and formality in relig- 
ion, which I know the eternal Gcdseesin me, and 
which, I fear, he hates me for. 

The dread I often feel, lest, afier all, I should dwell 
forever in Hell Fire! 

Oh! God, who is sufficient for these things? Oh! 
cast me not away from thy presence- — take not thy 
Holy Spirit from me. Oh! God be merciful to 
me a guilty and a wretched sinner. Be itso—iov 
Christ's sake. Amen. 

Monday Evening, May 27, 1811. 

But this was not the usual tone of his mind. Few 
there are so highly favored but that, sometimes, they 
are called to walk in darkness. The same apostle 
who declares at one period, 1 know whom I have be- 
lieved, and am persuaded that he is able to keep what 
I have committed unto htm until that day; at another 
cries, wretched man that I am, &fc. and again, 
Lest, after having preached unto others, I myself 
should be a cast- away. This document is a commen- 
tary on a passage in one of Spencer's letters: — "Be 
assured that I as well as yourself have walked in 
darkness, and complained that there was no light. 



259- 

Fluctuations in experience are, I am sure, my lot, 
&c."* He was 

Humble. For abundant evidence of the truth of 
this assertion, I need only appeal to his correspon- 
dence, his conversation, and his conduct; they each 
demonstrate that he walked humbly with his God. 
Indeed so prominent a feature in his character was 
humility, that his ministry derived from this prolific 
source a considerable portion of its excellence* 
"For," as a friend observed, "his deep humility and 
self-debasement leading him wholly to distrust 
himself, his affections ascended continually to the 
Savior, and brought down that abundant supply of 
spirituality which animated both his sermons and 
his life." 

A minister one day unguardedly said to him, 
"Mr. Spencer, I have been reading of your fame." 
"My fame, Sir." "Yes; I have been reading in one 
of the public prints, that the Rev. Thomas Spencer 
has been preaching several eloquent and impressive 
sermons at Brighton; and if you will call at my 
house, I will shew you the newspaper." Spencer 
declined going; and his remarks afterwards were 
Worthy of himself, 

"I am strongly pressed to visit Mr. ," said 

he; "I cannot; his circumstances are so much above 
mine, that it would be dangerous for me. If I get 
a habit of visiting the rich, I shall neglect the poor, 
and my expectation of usefulness lies among them?* 

His humility led him early to solicit, and highly 
to value, the fidelity of friendship. As he had a 
deep and intimate acquaintance with his own heart, 
he knew and deplored its corruptions; and turned 

fPage 144- 



with contempt from those professed and dangerous 
friendships, which only tend to feed the flame he was 
anxious to stifle and subdue, No friend of his was 
ever more faithful to him than Mr. B ; and few 
persons were more highly esteemed by him. Speak- 
kig of that gentleman, he said, frt I owe him particu- 
lar respect, and I wish to shew it." 

There was one instance in which his late attend- 
ance at a place of worship, where he was to preach, 
was unhandsomely attributed to pride. "He takes 
liberties*" said they, "because he is popular." Let 
not his memory suffer by such an imputation. It is 
in my power to roll away from the character of our 
departed friend this cloud. It was his attention to 
the duties of the closet, and not his pride, which 
caused his late attendance that day 8 It has been 
already observed, that he always went from his closet 
to the pulpit. On that day he allowed himself the 
proper time for retirement, intending to take a coach 
from the city, where he dined, to Walworth, where 
he w r as to preach. But a sudden fall of snow en- 
gaged every conveyance, and he was obliged to walk: 
the distance was considerable, and the consequence 
was, he was too late. When an error in the conduct 
of a minister is committed, reasons are easily assign- 
ed, and unhappily those the most uncharitable come 
the readiest to hand; and few have sufficient gener- 
osity or justice to inquire whether that which they 
have chosen is correct or not.* 

* It may "be said that this incident is too trifling to be recorded I do not think 
30. Nothing is unimportant which illustrates character; and it is in these tittle 
things, for the most part, that the character may be ascertained. Besides, the 
memory of the dead is sacred; and I should not discharge the duties which I 
have taken upon myself in the compilation of this volume, to the satisfaction 
©f my own m'wid, were I to suffer any spot or cloud toienaain upon the lovely 
character of Speucer which I am able to remove, 



£61 

The following extract of a letter, dated July $ § 
1810, shall close this pan of our review of Spencer's 
character. It was addressed to one who feared that 
his popularity might have an unhappy influence upon 
his mind: 

"A thousand thanks for the solicitude you express 
for my safety in the midst of the snares and dangers 
which appear to you to surround me; never nvy I 
be so left as to lose the dignity of the Christian, 
much more of the Ministerial character, by be- 
ing pleased with so empty a nothing as popular ap- 
plause; I cannot but recollect that this is a distinc- 
tion not unfrequentiy bestowed upon the most un- 
worthy of men, and it is so little calculated to afford 
any thing like happiness or peace of mind, that I hope 
I shall always be taught to esteem it a mere puff of 
noisy breath; that so being elevated above it, I may 
seek that reward alone, which a sense of the smile 
of God will ever bestow. Oh! my friend, may 
those pleasures be mine which arise from the testi- 
mony of my conscience, that I am seeking to please 
that Divine Being, 'whose frown can disappoint the 
proudest hopes, whose approbation prosper even 
mine," 

AS A MINISTER. 

We shall contemplate Mr. Spencer as a preacher 

OF THE GOSPEL, AND PASTOR OF A CHURCH. 

Though for the most part these two offices are com- 
bined, yet those who understand their nature, and 
the duties they involve, must be conscious of the dis- 
tinction which this division implies. Many a rnaa 
is an admirable preacher, who is but ill qualified for 
the retired and constant duties of the pastoral office; 
and many a man is exemplary as a pastor, who has 



262 

fittle except his piety, which indeed is much, to re- 
commend him as a preacher. As Spencer united in 
his own person the two offices, so did he eminently 
possess the qualifications. of both. 

As a Preacher his discourses were purely evan. 
gelical: this was the cast of all his sermons; He 
never preached to display himself,— but always to 
exalt the Saviors:. this was his constant aim, -and to 
accomplish it, he dwelt much upon the beauties of 
his character—the charms of his person— the fulness 
of his atonement-^-the perfection of his righteousness. 
He perpetually dwelt upon his willingness and abil- 
ity to save; and in order to demonstrate the neces- 
sity and the value of his great salvation, he seldom 
failed to resort to the. fallen, polluted, guilty, helpless 
state of man.- He consulted not the inclinations, the 
passions or the prejudices of his hearers, but preach- 
£0 simpsj, jcu'iuiniy, aiiu arirCtlGntitc!}'', m€ fliG^t hu- 
miliating, as well as the most animating doctrines of 
the gospel. Whatever text he struck, living waters 
seemed immediately to flow. Whatever was the sub- 
ject, or the occasion — -his holy and ardent mind, ever 
panting for the salvation of immortal souls, connect- 
ed with it truths and considerations, the most solemn 
and important. His applications were forcible and 
impressive. There he wrestled with the people, with 
a fervor, resembling that with which, in prayer, he 
wrestled with his God. He seemed to exhaust ev- 
ery argument which might be brought to bear upon 
his great object, and to these he often added appeals 
and entreaties, the most tender and affecting. Then 
he seemed to lose sight of every consideration, but 
his own responsibility, and his people's good — and 
as though the congregation before him were the only 
people remaining to be saved, and as though every 



«63 

time of preaching was the only opportunity afforded 
him of using the means for their salvation, he be- 
sought them, as an ambassador for Christ, to be re- 
conciled to God. 

The general cast of his preaching may be gath- 
ered from his texts, which are freely scattered up 
and down in the preceding pages. By his confession 
of faith it will be seen, that his sentiments were most 
decidedly what have obtained, in th*? Christian world, 
the epithet, Calvinistic— exactly in conformity with 
the Shorter Catechism of the Assembly of Divines, 
To these doctrines he was most warmly attached, and 
as they were the -subjects- of his firm belief, so were 
they the constant topics of his discourse, both in pub- 
lic and in private. Valuing these doctrines so high- 
ly, and cherishing so deep a sense of their impor- 
tance, we cannot be surprised that he should feel 
and express regret, when he saw them, in the ser- 
mons of ministers, neglected and cast into the shade. 
Perhaps, in his mode of expression, on such occa- 
sions, he was sometimes incautious.^ Admitting 1 
that it was so, we cannot but admire the principle. 
Where doctrines assume, in the view of the individ- 
ual, an importance, similar to that which we are ac- 
customed to attach to those grand principles which 

* Christians, and especially Christian ministers, should he sparing in the use 
of those hroad and unqualified assertions respecting their brethren in the min- 
. istry, which are so easily made, yet so difficult to prove, and so injurious in 
their influence. It is easy to say, he does not preach the gospel, of a minister 
— tv ho loves it, and propagates it with as much ardor as the censurer himself. 
He may not preach the gospel with the same phrases — in precisely the same 
style of language. Perhaps the censurer loves to dwell entirely on the promises 
of the gospel — on the sovereignty and freedom of Divine grace — on salvation 
as the unmerited gift of God by faith and not by works: — all this, the man he 
censures believes and preaches too; but then with the promises of the gospel, 
he blends the threatenings, — and with tne assurance that salvation is of grace 
and by faith — the importance of obedience, and a holy life as the evidence of 
saving faith. 



264 

formed the basis of Mr. Spencer's ministry, we can- 
not be surprised if he expresses warmly his regret, 
when he beholds them undervalued or abandoned. 

His discourses were judicious— he particularly ex- 
celled in the adaptation of his subjects, and the selec- 
tion of his texts, to particular circumstances and oc- 
casions. His sermons were never flippant, nor bom- 
bastic— but always solid and simple— full of sound 
divinity, conveyed in language, which, by its copi- 
ousness,- — its elegance- — its fluency, astonished every 
auditor. His skill in meeting the several cases of 
his hearers, has been already noticed. Every age 
and every rank received their portion from his pub- 
lic instructions: the aged were astonished at his 
deep experience; the young were charmed with his 
affectionate manner; and few, very few, were the 
instances in which the hearers did not depart, each 
affirming, that there was something in the sermon 
that exactly suited them.* 

As a preacher, Mr. Spencer was remarkable for 
Animation; indeed this was so strongly character- 
istic of him, that almost every other feature might 
have been resolved into this. Mr. Styles, than 

*A passage in a sermon recently published by the Rev. Robert Kali, admi- 
rably describes this quality of Mr. Spencer's preaching. "Without descend- 
ing to such a minute specification of circumstances, as shall make our addresses 
personal, they ought unquestionably to be characteristic; that the conscience 
of the audience may feel the hand of the preacher searching it, and every indi- 
vidual know where to class himself. The preacher who aims at doing good 
will endeavor, above ail things, to insulate his hearers, to place each of them 
apart, and render it impossible for him to escape by losing himself in the crowd. 
At the day of judgment, the attention excited by the surrounding scene, the 
strange aspect of nature, the dissolution of the elements, and the last trump, 
•will have no other effect than to cause the reflections of the sinner to return 
•with a more overwhelming tide on his own character, his sentence, his unchang- 
ing destiny; and, amid the innumerable millions who surround him, he will 
mourn apart. It is thus the Christian minister should endeavor to prepare the 
tribunal of conscience, and turn the eyes of every one of his hearers on him- 
self." — Discourse delivered to the Rev. James Robertson at his ordination, 
tof $obert Hatt t JL. M> 



265 

whom no man is better able to form and express 
an opinion of his worth, most correctly observes, "if 
I were to su r n up Mr. Spencer's character in one 
-word, comprehending in it only what is excellent 
and ennobling to human nature, I should say it was 
animation. His intellect was feeling, and his 
ieeling was intellect. His thoughts breathed, and 
his words glowed. He said nothing tamely, he did 
nothing with half a heart." With him, the anima- 
tion of the pulpit was enkindled by the devotion of 
the closet. His communion with God was deep 
and habitual, and this rendered him most feelingly 
alive to the great truths which he delivered — whilst 
the ardent desire which he cherished for the salvation 
of sinners supplied, with constant fuel, the flame of 
his zeal. In the pulpit, he appeared to be abstracted 
from every consideration, but those immediately 
connected with his subject, and his office. It was 
this holy fervor, perhaps, which constituted the 
great charm of his ministry. The simplest observa- 
tions from his lips were invested? by his manner of 
expressing them, with an importance which demand- 
ed attention. The interest which he felt himself in 
the momentous topics he discussed, he communi- 
cated to his hearers; and it was impossible not in 
some degree to feel, when every one saw how 
eagerly intent he was upon promoting their eternal 
welfare. 

"I remember, 5 ' says a friend, "that one evening 
when we reached Hoxton, in good time for him but 
too late for me, as he was to preach, the chapel was 
thronged, and I stood in the passage through which 
he passed to the pulpit. His delicate frame was too 
weak to sustain the animation of his mighty spirit. 
His half-closed mouth, fixed eye> flushed cheeky 
23 



266 

and panting breast, pained me to the heart as he pas- 
sed me, and loudly spoke my awful responsibility, 
possessed of such a friend, and such a ministry. He 
afterwards told me that he generally was agitated in 
his way to the pulpit, but that when he reached it he 
seemed to feel himself at home, I once asked a 
medical friend, who heard him at Hoxton with me, 
'how he heard?' 'Very uncomfortably.' 'Wfey?' 
'Because I saw that his preaching is at a physical 
expense to himself, beyond what you have any idea 
of. Every part of the service, except his repetition 
of the Lord's prayer, was at an expence which his 
frame is incapable of supporting." 

As a preacher, he was 

Solemn. He never degraded the awful dignity of 
his station, and his office, by buffoonery and jests>-~- 
he was popular— but he never courted popularity, 
by the practice of any thing that was time-serving \ 
crafty or mean. As an eminent judge once observ- 
ed, "he did not despise popularity, but he loved— 
not the popularity which he must follow— but the 
popularity that followed him." Who, but must be- 
hold with mingled sorrow and contempt, the low and 
disgusting arts, to which some men who style them- 
selves preachers of the gospel, will condescend, in 
order to gain the temporary admiration of the vulgar. 
There are some indeed, whose minds are unhappily 
so constituted, that they find it impossible to forego 
theii" humor, even in the pulpit. In such characters, 
while we deplore the failing, we esteem the men, and 
jevere their excellencies. But where there is no 
talent to command respect — no superior worth to 
induce the exercise of forbearance and love, but mere 
tricks are resorted to, for the sake of obtaining a 



name, every feeling is absorbed in that of mingled 
pity and disgust. 

Mr. Spencer's preaching had a holy tendency. — * 
He loved the gospel, and gave to its leading truths 
the prominency in his discourses, but on them, as 
on a firm foundation, he built a superstructure of the 
purest morality. Whilst he directed his hearers to 
a higher source for acceptance with God, than obe- 
dience to the commands of the law, he never' failed 
to enforce its precepts upon the practice of Chris- 
tians, as the rule of their life. Upon the absolute 
necessity of holiness, both of heart andconduct, he 
constantly dwelt, and from every topic which he clis- 
cussed, he deduced those practical lessons, which it 
naturally supplied. 

But, although as a preacher he obtained almost 
unexampled popularity, he was yet remarkably 

Modesty and unassuming. No man would better 
take a hint, or receive reproof with greater humility 
and even thankfulness, but no man was more reluc- 
tant to give either, though he might have presumed 
much upon the importance which attended his sta- 
tion, and have dealt out his censures with a liberal 
hand. 

"Do you think-,? observed a friend to him, "the 
expression, 'our realm,' which you use in prayer, 
quite right?' 7 "Is it not?" "It may be so — but I nev- 
er knew any individual except George III. and 
Thomas Spencer, use it, the one in his proclamations 
—the other in his prayers." Constantly as he used 
the phrase before — it never was known to escape him 
afterwards. 

"Mr. S " said a gentleman belonging to a certain 
congregation, to whom he was about to preach, "the 
people come in very late, in general. I wish you 



would reprove them for it this morning. 55 "Oh no, 
Sir, 33 he replied, "it would ill become a visiter and 
a youth like rne; it ought to be a stated or an aged 
minister. 5 * 

He shrunk from the public notice to which he was 
exposed, and usually walked the street in great haste,. 
and with downcast eyes, anxious to escape the gaze 
of men. 

In the pulpit, Mr, Spencer was an interesting fig- 
ure* His countenance had the fine bloom of youth* 
His voice was full toned and musical. His action 
was graceful and appropriate He sometimes leanedi 
over the pulpit, as if conversing with the people, 
with the greatest earnestness, and anxious to be so 
plain and explicit as that none should misunderstand. 
At others he stood with manly dignity, displaying; 
with spontaneous ease,, ail. the characteristics of gen- 
uine eloquence. 

That as a preacher he was faultless, no one will 
be disposed to assert; but his faults were those of 
youth, which time and experience would have cer- 
tainly corrected. He was sometimes too rapid — his 
zeal, like an impetuous torrent, bore him along, and 
would brook no check, — by which his voice was of- 
ten strained, and the usual placidity and dignity of 
his style somewhat interrupted. I conclude this 
sketch of his character as a preacher, by a note in- 
serted at the close of Mr, Hall's discourse, above re- 
ferred to:— 

"The sensation excitedly the sudden removal of 
that extraordinary young man, [Mr. Spencer,] ac- 
companied with such affecting circumstances, has 
not subsided, nor abated, as we are informed, much 
of its force. The event which has drawn so great a 
degree of attention, has been well improved in sev- 



269 

era! excellent discourses on the occasion. The tin- 
equalled admiration he excited while living, and the 
deep and universal concern expressed at his death, 
demonstrate him to have been no ordinary character; 
but one of those rare specimens of human nature, 
which the great Author of it produces at distant in 
tervals, and exhibits for a moment, while He is has- 
tening to make them up amongst his jewels. The 
high hopes entertained of this admirable youth, and 
the shock approaching to consternation, occasioned 
by his death, will probauly remind the classical 
reader of the inimitable lines of Virgil on Marcellus: 

O nate, ingentem luctum ne quoere tuorurn. 
Ostendent terris hunc tantum fata. Deque ultra 
Esse sinento 

"The writer of this deeply regrets his ucvqt hav- 
ing had an opportunity of witnessing his extraordi- 
nary powers; but from all he has heard from the best 
judges, he can entertain no doubt, that his talents in 
the pulpit were unrivalled, and that, had his life been 
spared, he would, in all probability have carried the 
art of preaching, if it may be so styled, to a greater 
perfection than it ever attained, at least,- in this king- 
dom. His eloquence appears to have been of the 
purest stamp, effective, not ostentatious, consisting 
less in the striking preponderance of any one quality, 
requisite to form a public speaker, than in an exqui- 
site combination of them all; whence resulted an ex- 
traordinary power of impression, which was greatly- 
aided by a natural and majestic elocution, To these 
eminent endowments he added, from the unanimous 
testimony of those who knew him best, a humility * 
and modesty, which, while they concealed a great ? 
part of his excellencies from himself, rendered them -. 



2vO 

the more engaging and attractive. When we reflect 
on these circumstances, we need the less wonder at 
the passionate concern excited by his death. For it 
may truly be said of him as of St Stephen, that de- 
vout men made great lamentation over him. May 
the impression produced by the event never be 
effaced; and, above all, may it have the effect of en 
gaging such as are embarked in the Christian minis- 
try, to xuor/c while it is called to-day" 

In directing my readers to a contemplation -of Mr.. 
.Spencer's character as 

A Pastor, I am influenced more, by a desire to 
render this general view of our departed friend com- 
pleteand to do ample justice to his memory, than by* 
the prospect of any very considerable practical result.. 
There are so many examples of pastoral diligence, 
furnished by the recorded lives of men venerable for 
their age, and valuable for their experience, that I 
cannot anticipate much from the pattern of a youth, 
just entered on his labors. But such as he was I. am 
bound to represent him. 

In his visits to the sick he was constant and tender. 

His enlargement in prayer, at the bed-side of the 
diseased and dying, was truly astonishing. The 
depth of his experience and ability in speaking to the 
cases cf the afflicted, appeared mysterious. But it 
was soon explained by a holy providence.—- Fc?r 
whilst his friends saw him young and heahhr, just. 
entering into the world, He who seeth not as man 
seeth, beheld in him the Christian of fifteen je&rs 
standing, just taking wing for glory. This consid- 
eration may tend to check invidious comparisons,— 
for it is certainly unjust to compare one, in whom 
43od has cut short his work, in righteousness, with 



27 i 

those who, though older in years, are younger m 
grace, and have perhaps a long and honorable course 
before them. 

His intercourse with his people was cheerful, spir* 
itual and instructive. 

He was no gossip. It was wished, by some, that 
he had been more frequent in his visits. But it is- 
difficult so to equalize the attention, in a large body 
of people, as to satisfy the demands-.of all, and by ap- 
parent neglect give offence to none. Where he did 
visit, he always left a happy impression of his piety, 
his wisdom, and his amiable disposition. He ab- 
horred the idle tales the day,— he was no friend 
to scandal. He endeavored always to direct the con- 
versation into a useful and pleasing channel. He 
W 7 as cheerful, without levity, and serious without af- 
fectation. There was nothing formal or studied ii* 
nis manners. In him, every thing was natural, and 
through all the departments of his character, there 
was a harmony of feature— a unity of principle, 
which every one observed and admired. 

In all the duties of the pastoral office, he was well 
informed, affectionate \ and constant* 

He knew what belonged to his office — and never 
failed to practice what he knew. He made full proc£ 
©f his ministry. He was a scribe well instructed in 
the mysteries of the kingdom. A workman that 
needed not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word 
of truth — giving a portion to each, in due season — ~ 
sparing the irregularities or prejudices of none— but 
sseking with ardent affection the good of all — he com- 
mended himself is Qv^ry man's conscience in the 
sight of God. Early he girded on the armor — and 
sptpn became a leader in the armies of the Prince of- 



272 

Peace. He has fought a good fight, he has finished 
his course — and now he enjoys the crown. 

MEFLECTION& 

I am unwilling further to detain the attention of 
the reader to a volume, which, but for its interesting 
subject, would have wearied his patience long ago, 
and which has imperceptibly swollen to a bulk, far 
greater than that which the writer, originally, intend- 
ed it to obtain, by any additional reflections, especially 
as the preceding pages abound with observations of 
a practical nature, as the narrative suggested them — - 
and as almost every topic of improvement which 
might now be introduced has been fully anticipated 
and forcibly expressed by the interesting publications 
which appeared upon the death of Spencer. And 
yet, were I to dismiss the volume, without any effort 
at a final improvement of the subject, I might be 
charged with neglecting the great object of biogra- 
phy — utility; and the book might be considered as 
deficient in the most important point. 

In Spencer we see. — 

First, That obscurity of birth or station presents no 
insurmountable barrier to the progress of real excel- 
lence. 

The history of past and present times furnishes 
unnumbered illustrations of this remark. Maay who 
have lived to enlighten and to bless the world- — who 
have obtained rank, and fortune, and renown, were 
born in obscurity, and passed their earliest years in 
the oblivu. < of humble life. Let such as feel at 
present the pressure of circumstances, yet pant for 
scenes of honorable exertion, and extensive useful- 
ness, ponder the life of Spencer and be encouraged. 
IF God designs to use them for the public good, he 



& i o 

will, by an unexpected train of events, in his provi- 
dence call them forth; if not, let them neither rush 
unbidden from their sphere, nor occupy their station 
in sullen discontent; if a wider field be not allowed 
them, let them cultivate with cheerfulness the little 
spot to which they are confined. The most retired 
hamlet affords abundant opportunities of doing good; 
and many a man to whom it is denied to enlighten 
crowded cities and populous towns,- may be a star of 
the first magnitude in the village where he dwells. 

Secondly, We see in Spencer the commanding in- 
fluence of genuine and fervent piety. This was the 
secret spring of all his energy— the fuel of his -ani- 
mation — the source of his popularity. That his 
mind was well furnished with solid truths — *hat his 
manner was engaging — that his form was graceful 
— that his countenance was lovely - — that his language 
was elegant — -that his voice was fine— is admitted; 
but it was his ardent piety which gave to each of 
these a charm, and awoke in the breasts of his audi- 
tors a feeling of reverence and sokmnity, which the 
simple exhibition- of them could never have produc- 
ed. The graces of genuine eloquence, and the 
stores of a cultivated mind, are precious; but without 
piety, they are as 'sounding brass and tinkling cym~ 
bals? they may delight the ear, but never will im- 
press the heart; and it is not, usually, the labors of 
the most polished and enlightened of his ministers, 
that Jehovah deigns especially to bless; but rather 
the unwearied exertions of those, whom the love of 
Christ and of immortal souls has rendered zealous 
in the sacred cause. 

Thirdly, We see in the labors of Spencer, an admir- 
able example of diligence^ and in the success thai 
crowned them^ a strong encouragement to exertion* 



So short was the period of his stated ministry, 
that we can only measure it by months: it had not 
reached to years. But few, perhaps, whose term of 
labor was so short as his, were ever honored with 
more success; whilst many who have seen the num- 
ber of his months often repeated in years of anxious 
labor, have not been favored with so much. If all 
prove faithful unto death* whom he enlisted, whilst 
or* earth, beneath the banners of the cross, he will 
head a goodly company, when the hosts of the re- 
deemed shall be assembled at the judgment day. 
Who that knew and loved him, but must anticipate 
the joy with which he then shall say, '•here am I, Fa- 
ther, and the children whom thou hast given me.' 

Let the example of his exertions and success stim- 
ulate, quicken, and encourage ours, We work for 
the same Master, and are engaged in the game cause. 

And;- to the student or the youthful preacher who 
may honor these pages with his- regard,- I will add, 
your term may be as short — if it be not as success- 
ful, let it be as diligent. The diligence is ours,— • 
the success is God's: He will not demand at our 
hands what is not ours to securer-He will give His 
rewards of grace to the faithful servant, whether his 
success be proportioned to his exertions or not; and 
we are ^ a sweet savor unto Him in them that are sav- 
ed, and in them that perish? 

Fourthly, From the early any sudden removal of 
Spencer, let churches learn to prize the labors of holy 
and devoted men, while they enjoy them. Alas! too 
many ©nly learn the value of their privileges by their 
removal. They neglected or lightly esteemed, 
whilst living, the minister, upon whose memory they 
heap eulogies and honors when departed; and I be- 
lieve v that some have even bedewed the ashes of their 



-27S 

pastors with affected tears, who accelerated and em- 
bittered their passage to the grave, by unkindness 
and neglect! Not so the people whom the death of 
Spencer suddenly bereaved, The tears with which 
they embalmed his memory, were suitabk to the 
respect they bore his person- — the love they cher- 
ished for his friendship — and the sense they entertain 
of his transcendant worth.* O that every minister 
living were as much beloved!— dying were as unaf- 
fectedly deplored! 

Fifthly, In Spencer we see the excellence of real 
religion— how it sweetens labor — sooths in affliction 
— supports in trial— and animates the soul in scenes 
of disappointment, and hours of care. To few are 
allotted severer labors- — to few, so young, are meas- 
ured heavier trials than those which he endured. But 
few, upon the whole, have possessed a greater share 
of happiness: there were intervals of sorrow; and 
clouds would sometimes obscure the brightness of 
his sun.; but for the most part his hope was lively, 
and his prospects fair. He enjoyed religion upon 
earth — he anticipated the consummation of its bliss 
in heaven: and now he has entered into the joy of 
his Lord. His life was piety, and his end was peace. 

* By some liberal expositors of God ? s providence, the death of Spencer has 
been pronounced a judgment on the people, for what they have termed, "their . 
idolatrous attachment to him. Alas! the idolizing of its ministers is, surely, 
not the crying sin of the church at the present day! But was there any thing 
in the conduct of the people over whom Spencer presided, so contrary to the 
mind of God as to excite thus strongly his displeasure, in loving a man who 
was beloved wherever he was known — and revering an office which Christ 
himself has invested with so much dignity? Let such bold infringers of the 
prerogative of God, who presume to assign reasons for his conduct, when he 
has not deigned to give any, read. — "Knotu them that labor amongst you, and 
over y mi in the Lord, and admonish; and esteem them very highly in love jor 
their -work's sake, and be at peace among yourselves" Let them take the 
solemn admonition this passage gives; and perhaps their own ministers wfU 
have no occasion to regret that they haye done so. 



£76 

Sixthly, In the sudden removal of Spencer , we 
mark the mysterious conduct of Jehovah? s providence. 

At first sight the event might stagger the strong- 
est faith, for he was snatched away at a period when 
his life seemed of the utmost moment to the people 
over whom he presided, and the circle in which he 
moved. Scarcely had his talents reached their ma- 
turity; his character was even then unfolding; from 
the promise of his youth, his friends dwelt with rap- 
ture on the anticipations of his manhood, and every 
day added some strokes of reality to the picture they 
drew, — when suddenly, in the bloom of his youth — - 
at the commencement of his course, — just entered 
on his labors— 4ie is arrested by the arm of death, and 
conducted to the silent grave. Was his death un- 
timely? No, — he had seen a good old age in useful- 
ness, though not in years: "that life is long that an- 
swers life's great end." His end was fully answer- 
ed, and he was gathered to the grave in peace. Was 
his death severe? No, — to him it was tranquil, and 
serene; he crossed the river of Jordan, singing as he 
went, and in an unexpected moment, found himself 
safely landed on the shores of immortality. No rag- 
ing billows awoke his fears— no agonies disturbed 
his countenance — death respected his loveliness, and 
preserved the beauty of the form, when the spirit that 
animated it was gone* But whilst for him his death, 
was peaceful, was their ought of mercy ia it to his 
friends? Yes — if they review and act upon the les- 
sons it conveys, there is; to survivers it declares, 
that excellence and beauty must fade and die — let 
them seek an interest in Him, in whom whosoever 
liveth and believeth shall not die eternally — -to the 
church it will endear the assurance of His care, who 
is independent of instruments and the conqueror of 



277 

death. To the young it is a solemn admonition of 
the uncertainty of life — the instability of all terrestrial 
good. To such as attended his ministry — what a 
powerful application is it of the many sermons they 
have heard him preach, with such delight — but to so 
little profit! How must the event of the succeeding 
morning rivet the impression of those solemn words 
which on the last Sabbath evening of his life, he 
addressed to them: "I shall soon meet you at the 
bar of God; I shall be there!''- — that they were 
wise, that they knew these things-— that they would 
consider their latter end. 



END OF THE MEMOIRS, 



M 



APPENDIX. 

No. I. 

THE Dissenters of various denominations have numerous 
Academies, partly endowed by munificent individuals, and 
partly supported by voluntary subscription, for the education 
of young men for the work of the ministry. There are in- 
stitutions of this kind at Homerton, H'oxton, Hackney, 
Wymondley, Rotherham, Axminster, Idle, Wrexham, Bris- 
tol, Stepney, Caermarthen, York, Glasgow, and other places. 
In these schools of religion and literature the course of study 
is for the most part liberal, and some of them have supplied 
the churches of Christ for many generations, with sound and 
learned divines. The compiler had the honor to receive his 
education in the Old College, Homerton, a truly venerable 
institution, over which the Rev. Dr. John Pye Smith, and 
the Rev. Thomas Hill, preside. The following is an outline 
of the principles, upon which that institution is founded, and 
the course of study which is there pursued. 

It is held as a fundamental principle among the Orthodox 
Dissenters, that no young man should be destined for the 
ministry as a mere profession; or educated with a view to 
that office, till he gives rational indications of that internal 
and sound piety, which arises from the operations of the 
Holy Spirit of God upon the heart. Their first care there- 
fore is, to select such characters only as candidates for the 
.office of the ministry; and, in so doing, it happens not unfre- 
quently, that the individuals whom ministers and private 
Christians select out of their congregations, have been en- 
gaged more or less in the avocations of secular life, and have 
enjoyed only a common education. It appears upon the 
average of many years, that about two thirds of the ministers, 
educated in the Old College, at Homerton, have been of this 
description. The remaining third has consisted of young 
iaetij whose whole previous life had been devoted to literary 



280 

pursuits, and whose superior advantages of education, had 
been adorned by early and promising piety. But in all cases, 
the prerequisites for admission into this ancient institution 
are, credible and ample testimonies that the applicant is, in the 
severest judgment of Christian reason, a sincere, devoted, 
and practical disciple of Christ, born of God, and sanctified 
by the Holy Spirit. In addition to this grand requisite, the 
Directors of the Academy require some evidence of respec- 
table talents, and such as are likely to improve the advanta- 
ges to be conferred. As a further security for the attain- 
ment of this object, students who are thus approved at their 
first introduction, are admitted upon a probation of three 
months. The evidences of piety and talents, display- 
ed during this probationary period, determine the full admis- 
sion of a young candidate. 

If the student, at his entrance into the house, should not 
be possessed of classical literature sufficient to enable him 
with ease and accuracy to read ordinary Latin and Greek 
authors, (e. g. Quintilian and Horace, Xenophon and Homer,) 
he enters on grammatical and classical studies, and attends 
to them solely till he is judged fit for the next class of pur- 
suits: this period is seldom less than two years, and some- 
times it is longer. 

The Rev, Thomas Hill, Classical and Mathematical Tutor, 
conducts this department with distinguished ability, and with 
an intenseness of application, worthy of the most grateful 
mention: under his direction, the students read the most val- 
uable Roman and Greek classics, with a strict attention to 
accuracy of construction, parsing, prosody, arid the cultivation 
of a just and elegant taste for the beauties of those immortal 
authors. The course thus begun is continued to the close 
of a student's residence in the college, which, in most cases, 
is nearly six years. During the two years of pursuits, solely 
classical and philosophical, attention is also paid to English 
composition; and themes, on subjects chiefly moral and re- 
ligious, are composed by those students whom Mr. Hill 
judges fit; and one day at least, in each fortnight, is spent by 
him in reviewing and animadverting on these essays. 

After the students have entered upon the course, called 
for the sake of distinction, Academical, they still continue 
their attendance upon the Classical Tutor; and they add to 
their improving acquaintance with the best authors of pro- 



281 

fane antiquity, the study of the Hebrew language, and after- 
wards of the Syriac. They also enjoy his Lectures in Ge- 
ometry and Algebra, in which Euclid and Bonnycastle's Al- 
gebra are the text-books. 

The Academical course^ upon which students enter as soon 
as their proficiency in classical learning renders it proper, is 
principally Theological; but Lectures are also regularly read 
in other departments of science and general knowledge. The 
duties of the Divinity Tutor embrace, 

I. The Theological Department, which comprehends 
six distinct courses, or plans of instruction. 

I. The compilation of a systematical arrangement of Chris- 
tian Theology, by the judgment and industry of each student 
himself. Dr. Smith whose profound classical, theological 
and biblical knowledge, renders him admirably qualified for 
the important office which he fills, puts into the hands of the 
students a large manuscript work, entitled "First Lines of 
Christian Theology. 5 * This commences with an introductory 
address, consisting of observations and counsels upon the 
moral state and dispositions of the mind which are necessary 
for the profitable study of divine truth; — upon the utility and 
subserviency of literature and general science for the ad- 
vancement of Theological knowledge, and usefulness in the 
ministry: — and upon the conduct of the understanding in the 
actual study of divinity under its various aspects of libeial 
and impartial inquiry, interpretation of the scriptures, and 
the determination of controversies. This is followed by the 
syllabus, which forms the body of the work, and consists of 
definitions, propositions, hints of solution, corollaries, scho- 
lia, &c. with references to authors of merit under every 
particular. 

The design of this plan is not only to lead the student into 
a clear tnd logical method of deducing divine truth from its 
proper source, but to engage his industry of research and 
meditation, to take him to the first fountains of knowledge, 
and to excite his judgment, his powers of discrimination, 
and all his talents, to the most profitable kind of exer- 
cise. When the student has, with suitable attention and 
diligence, completed the scheme, he possesses a body of 
Christian divinity and moral philosophy, thoroughly digested, 
methodically arranged, the fruit of his own labor and indus- 
try 5 and the systematical depository of his future acquisitions 

*24 



|8i 

2. A Polemical Lecture designed to furnish a fan* and 
comprehensive view of the most important controvercies of 
the present day; inculcating at the same time, the value and 
importance of truth, and the absurdity and danger of scepti- 
cism or indifference ? 

3. An Exegetical Lecture on some book of the Greek 
Testament, generally an epistle. 

4. A course on Biblical Criticism, and the principles of 
sacred Philology and Interpretation. 

5. Lectures on Preaching, and the other duties of the 
pastoral office. Di\ Doddridge's Lectures on those sub* 
jects are the text- book. 

6. Lectures on Ecclesiastical History. 

1L A course of Lectures on the Elements of Natural 
Philosophy, Chemistry, and Natural History* 

III. A course on Logic and the Philosophy of the Mind. 

3 V. A course on the study of Civil History and Antiqui* 
ties; attainments prerequisite for that study, observations 
on historical writers, rules and advices for securing the 
greatest sum of advantage from the pursuit, and an inquiry 
into the objects most interesting to a Christian divine, to 
which the study of history should be rendered subservient. 

The preceding statement may be considered as a fair 
specimen of the usual course of study pursued in the best 
regulated of our Dissenting Colleges. The subject of the 
preceding memoirs received his education in the truly res* 
pectable Academy at rioxtom— -over that institution the 
Rev. Robert Simpson, the Rev. Henry Forster Burder 3 
A. M. and the Rev. — — - Hooper, A. M. preside with dis- 
tinguished ability.* 

In these respective Academies, public examinations are 
annually held, in which a close and critical inquiry is made 
into the diligence — the acquirements, and the conduct of 
each student. 

* I should be happy to present a statement of the system adopted in that 
excellent institution, but I am net furnished with materials for the purpose, 
Such a statement was not deemed necessary by those ©f whom I requested 
information. I think it of importance to mention this, lest I should be consid- 
ered as partial, in giving so minute a detail of the course at Homerton, and 
saying so little of the plans pursued at Hoxton. 



288 



No. II. 

Specimens of Mr* Spencer's early exercises xh 
preaching* 

From the following outlines of some of his first sermons 
may be gathered what was his general style of preaching at 
the period of their composition. 

ON PUBLIC WORSHIP, 

Dated March 6, 180f. 

Matthew xviii, 20. 'For where two or three are gath° 
zred together in my name, there am I in the. midst of them' 

We shall make a few general observations on the text in 
the following order: 

I. That it is the duty and interest of Christians 
to assemble together for the purposes of religious 

WORSHIP. 

This duty was 

1. Practised by ancient believers* Zion was the well 
known place to which the tribes went up — Christ frequent- 
ed the Synagogue. The apostles met together, 8cc. 

2. It is enjoined in the sacred scriptures. See Ps. c, 4» 
H*b, x, 25. 

3. Fraught with the richest blessings, 

II. That it must be done in the name of Christ. 

1. In obedience to his command. 

2. In the use of his appointed means. 

3. In dependence on his assistance. 

4. With a view to his glory. 

III. That although but few pers©ns thus assemble*, 

YET THAT IS NO OBJECTION TO THEIR OBTAINING THE DI- 
VINE FAVOR AND BLESSING, 

4 Wherever two or three,' tefc. 
We remark in the first place, 

1. That God regards the sincerity of the worshippers^ not 
their number. 

2. The happy experience of worshippers in a-ll ages of the 
%>orld. As a confirmation of the sentiment, 

3. The positive assertion of the text. 



284 

IV. That Jesus is present with all those who thus 

ASSEMBLE TOGETHER. 

How is Christ present in his worshipping assemblies? 
For what purpose is Christ present with his worshipping 
people? 

1. To observe the manner of their worshifi. 

2. To bless those who are earnestly seeking him e 

REFLECTIONS. 

i. The Lord Jesus Christ is God, or he could not be pres* 
ent in all the assemblies of his people at the same time. 

2. How inexcusable is the conduct of those who neglect 
public worship. 

S. How great will be the happiness of the heavenly 
world, to all the sincere worshippers of Christ. 

THE SECOND APPEARING OF CHRIST. 

Hebrews ix, 28. <And unto them that look for him shall 
he afifiear the second time without sin unto salvation* 
Let us contemplate, 

1. The glorious appearance qj the Son of Gob, 
The text informs us of 

L Its certainty, 'He shall appear,' Sec. 

2. Its order. ^1 he second time, 5 Sec* 

3. lis manner. i Without sin^ L^c.' 

4. 1 he end. iT Jnto salvation. 9 

II. The persons who will re happily interested in 
it. To these who look for him> 

1. With ardent love. 

2. With earnest longing* 

3. With flatten t waiting \ 

4. With due preparation. . 

From this subject permit me to make these remarks. 

What a great distinction among mankind will there be at 
the judgment. 

Of what importance is it for us to know whether we are 
thus looking ior him. 

In what high estimation should we hold that Savior who 
is the first and the last in a sinner's salvation. 



285 



THE WOMAN OF SAMARIA. 

John iv, 28, 29. i The woman then left her water-fiot and 
went htr way, into the city, and saith to the men, Come see 
a man which told me all things^ whatever I did; is not this 
the Christ? 9 
From the text and its connexion we shall draw the three 

following plain observations: 

I. That Jesus Christ is possessed of the greatest 

EXCELLENCIES. 

We shall confine ourselves to those illustrated in his con- 
versation with the woman of Samaria. * 

1. Profound humility. Though he was rich in the glo- 
ries of his divine nature, he humbled himself and become a 
man, and so as not to be above holding conversation with a 
poor woman at a well. Let proud mortals contemplate this 
and be ashamed. 

2. Consummate wisdom. He proceeds upon the plan es- 
tablished by the order of the everlasting covenant, and will 
not fail of converting all his chosen people. He knew 
where to find this woman — he knew all her circumstances— 
and what kind of conversation to hold with her. 

3. Ardent benevolence. It was for the instruction and 
conversion of this poor woman, that he exerted himself. 

II. That those who are enabled to discover his 

EXCELLENCIES FEEL AN ATTACHMENT TO HIM. 

The affection of that soul which has by faith contemplated 
and discovered the excellencies of Christ) is, 

1. Reasonable. (Rational) 

2. Fervent. 

3. Influential. 

III. That those who really love him are anxious 

TO RECOMMEND HIM TO OTHERS. 

1. By earnest entreaty. 

2. By bri?igi)ig them under the sound of the gosfiel, 

2. By fir ay er to God for thenu 

4. By a holy life. 

IMPROVEMENT. 

h We here see that there is no worthiness in the instru* 
vient employed in a sinner '$ conversion, 



286 

The Samaritan woman was made Useful in directing her 
fellow citizens to Christ. 

2, This subject affords us a test whereby we may try mir 
oivn characters. 

Are we really attached to Christ? 

3. Are there any here desirous to see Jesus? 



No. III-.- 

CHRIST AT EMMAUS.- 

Luke xxiv, 32. *And they said one to another ', did not our' 
hearts burn within us, while he talked with us by the way r 
and while he opened to us the scriptures? 9 

The connexion of this text shews us, that after the death 
and resurrection of the great Messiah, two of the disconso- 
late disciples, who knew not that he was raised from the dead, 
went to a village called Emmaus; that on their way thither they 
conversed, as was likely they would do, upon the wonderful 
events that had lately transpired in Jerusalem, and spake of 
him they loved. His person— -his. actions-— his sermons— » 
his prophecies — and, above all, his most extraordinary exit 
occupied their solemn attention, and afforded a subject for 
the most interesting discourse. Whilst they were thus en- 
gaged in conversing about him, with whom they had before 
been familiar, a*nd from whom they had learned most excel- 
lent lessons, a third came up and joined them; this indeed 
was Jesus of Nazareth, who had been raised from the dead 
by the glory of the Father. But he chose, for wise ends, to 
conceal himself from them, and to cause that their eyes 
should be holden, that they should not know him, appearing 
to them as a stranger desirous of knowing the subject of 
their conversation, and the cause of their grief, and to sym- 
pathize with them under their sorrow — weeping with them 
that wept. They intimated to him their wonder that he, even 
supposing that he were but a stranger in Jerusalem, should 
be unacquainted with the things which were come to pass 
there in those days; then proceeding to tell him how Jesus, 
a prophet, mighty in deed and word before God and the peo- 
ple, was condemned to death and crucified; giving him to 



287 

understand at the same time, that the hopes they had enter- 
tained of him were most sanguine, for they trusted that it 
had been he which should have redeemed Israel; and, finally, 
they informed him of some peculiar phenomena that had 
been witnessed by certain w^omen of their acquaintance at his 
sepulchre, where his body could not be seen, though they 
saw a vision of angels, who said that he was alive. The 
courteous and mild fellow traveller then began to speak an4 
detain them with delightful converse; for he shewed them 
'that Christ ought to suffer these things, and then to enter 
into his glory/ He spread before them the mysteries of 
the inspired page, and shewed how they were illustrated in 
the life and death of their best friend. Sooner than they 
thought they arrived at their journey's end, where he made 
as though he would have gone further; but they prevailed 
on him, by their great importunity, to go in and tarry with 
them— with them he took bread, blessed it, brake it, and 
gave unto them — then first their eyes were opened to be- 
hold him as the same Jesus who was crucified, and to dis- 
cover in him the lovely features of their Lord who had done 
all things well — when, lo! he vanished out of their sight, and 
was seen no mere.! — After which, we may reasonably sup- 
pose to have taken place — a solemn silence; and then they 
used to each other the admirable expression we have selec- 
ted as a text — "Did not our hearts burn within us, while he 
talked with us by the way, and while he opened to us the 
scriptures?" Having, then, taken a slight glance at the 
whole account of this wonderful -circumstance, in confining 
our attention more particularly to the words of the text, we 
shall view them as leading us to reflect or — the conversation 
of our Lord with his disciples — and the effects it produced 
upon their minds — "their hearts burned, within them, while 
he talked with them by the way." Behold 

(I.) The conversation of our Lord with his disciples. 

And here the passage presents us with the kind familiari- 
ty which he displayed, and the lustre that he cast on the 
divine word — the first remarkable thing in our Lord's con- 
versation with the travellers to Emmaus, is — . 

(1) The kind familiarity which he displayed — their own 
expression is, ".He talketh with us by the way." It is con- 
descension in the Son of Godj to notice the concerns and ac- 



288 

cept the worship of his holy angels; how much more must it 
be so to sojourn with mankind — to go where they go — and 
freely to tell them the secrets of his heart. The Savior 
was now, you remember, even on earth, a most dignified 
character — he was now no longer to suffer and be cruelly 
entreated — he had now finished the work his Father had 
given him to do — and had shortly after to ascend to claim his 
high seat in glory. He now shewed himself to be the Christ, 
the Son of God, and confirmed the reality of his appointment 
and mission, by his bursting the bars of the tomb. He would 
not now be viewed by any as a common character, but as the 
most wonderful being that had ever appeared in the world — 
as such even his enemies must consider him. Yet all this 
did not make him forget his friends, or cause him to lose 
any thing of that social and condescending disposition he had 
ever before manifested; but almost as soon as he was risen, 
he goes to meet some of the members of his little family, and 
confirm them further in himself, "He talked with them by the 
way." — Oh! what a heaven does Christ here by his example 
stamp upon Christian intercourse and sacred friendship. — 
Behold he talks with his disciples, proving to them that "as 
ointment and perfume rejoice the heart, so doth the sweet- 
ness of a man's friend, by hearty counsel." And to this day 
we are permitted to converse with our God — "he talks with 
us by the way" — tells us our true character, and reveals his 
own excellence— -he appears as our wonderful counsellor! 
and to whatever place we journey, we should be concerned 
to have him talking with us by the way. — The next remark- 
able circumstance in this conversation of our Lord, mentioned 
in the text, is 

(2) The lustre that he cast upon the divine word — "He 
talked with us by the way, and opened to us the scriptures." 
And well he might, for he told us before that "the Lord had 
given him the tongue of the learned; that he should know 
how to speak a word in season, to him that is weary." "He 
began," says the evangelist, "at Moses and all the prophets, 
and expounded to them in all the scriptures, the things con- 
cerning himself" — blessed interpreter — divine teacher. We 
have no reason to suppose that he forgot the first promise that 
was made of him, even in the garden of Eden, that he should 
bruise the head of the serpent: no doubt but the intended 



28ft 

sacrifice of Isaac, the patriarch's son — the erection of the 
brazen serpent on the pole — and the various sacrifices under 
the law, were all delightfully commented on by Jesus the Sa- 
vior. He did justice to all the passages — he shewed their 
full import— he gave them an insight into the meaning of alt 
the prophecies respecting his death and glory — he took up 
every part of scripture in its bearing upon himself, he shew- 
ed [that he] was u all in all"— even in the. Old Testament; 
and thus by his teachings they discovered far more of the 
beauty, harmony, and fulfilment of the word of God, than 
they ever did before, or ever would have done without his in- 
struction. And does he not now give his people to under- 
stand the doctrines of his word — does he not now daily open 
to us the scriptures— has he not given to us his Holy Spirit 
in order to make us more wise in the mysteries of his king- 
dom, — and are we not directed to seek for him in the field of 
divine truth as for hid treasure. Oh! how much is there re- 
specting Christ in this holy book, and who is so able to make 
us know it as himself — "he opens our understanding that we 
may understand the scriptures— he ever teaches his minis- 
ters to open and allege that Christ must needs have suffered 
and risen again from the dead, and that this Jesus whom we 
preach unto you is Christ," — as he taught his apostles "to tes- 
tify the kingdom of God, persuading men concerning Jesus, 
both out of the law of Moses, and out of the prophets, from 
morning till evening." Having then admired the conversa- 
tion of our Lord with his disciples on the way to Emmaus, 
we notice 

II— The effects it produced in their minds. 

It was not at all probable that his discourse should be with- 
out effect, or fail deeply to interest their minds, since it was 
the very theme on which they chose to dwell; and it was 
conducted in so wise and endearing a manner — it was such 
that according to their own confession, it made their hearts 
to burn within them, while he talked with them by the way — 
and surely I need not say this was not the glow of shame, lest 
they should be found in his company-— No brethren, they 
would not have cared who of all the great men of the land 
had met them in company with this most intelligent stranger 
—they felt themselves highly honored by his company, even 
before they knew his name. Nor was this the heat of ahg*'r } 



2S0 

or of any bad passion excited by any thing that lie delivered^ 
his communications were sweet, and soothing. Had they 
been so disposed, they could find nothing in th^m that was 
improper, untrue, or provoking;— he talked with them as a 
man talks with his friend — the communion was sweet, and 
the intercourse highly gratifying; hence, though their hearts 
burned within them, it was neither with shame, nor anger. 
But this, brethren, permit me to say, was the glow of fixed 
surprise— of grateful feeling — of humble love, and— of holy 
animation of soul. Observe, it was the glow 

(i) of fixed surprise. 

They wondered much that he who appeared a stranger, 
not only to them, but also to the place where they were, 
should know so much about them. — Jerusalem and Jesusj 
they were astonished at his wisdom— at his eloquence, — I 
almost fancy that they exclaimed "Never man spake like this 
man."— With emotions of amazement, they perceived that 
his "word was quick and powerful, and sharper than any two 
edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of 
soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow; and that it 
is a discoverer of the thoughts and intents of the heart." 
With what prying eyes must they have looked upon him; and 
yet not so as to behold him who he was, because himself had 
prevented it; yet their hearts burned within them — senti- 
ments of unutterable admiration were hid in their breasts 
whilst he opened to them the scriptures. Again—it was the 
glow 

(2) of grateful feeling. 

They must have discovered that they were greatly in- 
debted to this benevolent stranger, who had so effectually 
enlightened their judgments, and alleviated their sorrows. 
Their hearts burned within "them with the sensation of 
thankfulness? — they saw that he was a praise-worthy charac- 
ter, and, metbinks, were devising some acknowledgments 
for his attention to them, little thinking that it was the Lord. 
Did your hearts ever glow in this way with a sense of your 
utter incapability tff making any suitable returns to him that 
loved you, apd revealed to you his will? For your fellowship 
with him, have you ever said-— what shall 1 render to the 
Lord? Did you ever feel the high honor of being with Je- 
^. f— admitted into his presence, and being made partakers 



291 

fcf his grace? All your hearts, Christians, should glow with 
gratitude, and burn with love. Hence, we remark again, 
their hearts burned within them with the sensation 

(3) of humble love. 

Finding as they did, that his words "were found of them* 
and they did eat them," and they were to them the joy and 
the rejoicing of their hearts, they manifested a strong at- 
tachment to him whom they supposed to be a new friend. 
He engaged their affections, hence they desired more of his 
company, and said, when their fears were excited lest he 
should depart from them— "Abide with v: for it is toward 
evening."— So do the hearts of the peopie of God burn 
Within them to the present day, with like sensations, under 
similar enjoyments— the flame of divine love is kindled in 
their souls— the words of his mouth appear to them sweeter 
. than the honey or the honeycomb,— -his doctrine drops like 
the rain, and distils like the dew, and sensible that none 
teacheth like him, they admire and love him before all eth- 
ers. Oh! how excellent a thing it is thus to love the Sa- 
vior.— Let it be our happiness to sit at his feet; and with 
meekness receive the ingrafted word of truth, which is able 
to save the soul, so shall its admirable Author rise daily 
more and more in our esteem. Finally, it w T as the glow cf 

(4) holy animation of soul. 

Divine light broke in upon their minds, and dispersed 
their remaining unbelief— they were elevated above the 
world to the contemplation of their adorable Redeemer. 
He touched their finest feelings- — -he filled their souis with 
the sublime joys of his salvation— he inspired them with 
pure devotion, and fixedness of heart — and while he led 
them to the consideration of Him who endured such con- 
tradiction of sinners against himself, he prevented them 
from being weary and fainting in their minds. And oh! 
Christians what sweet moments— rich in blessing — have 
you enjoyed, when in converse with Jmmanuei. "Wheth- 
er in the body, or out of the body, 5 ' you have hardly been 
able to tell; — drops of heaven have been bestowed upon 
you here below — the light of the Divine countenance has 
caused you to take your harp from the willows, and make 
every string speak to the praise of love divine. Did not 
your hearts burn within you? Were you not like Peter on * 



202 

the mount, who, in an eestacy of joy said, {! Lord it is good tfe 
be here?" You anticipated the joys of the blessed, you drank 
of the brook by the way, and seemed ready to depart and to 
be with Christ, to drink wine new with him, in the kingdom 
of his Father. This holy delight in God is real, and net en- 
thusiastic— it is bestowed only on the new born heir? of 
grace, and it is given them as a pledge of joys to corner 
their hearts burn within them while he talks with them by 
the way. 

In reflecting on this subject we are struck with the idea 
that 

We often have to blame ourselves for not sufficiently es- 
timating our mercies during the time of their continuance. 

These disciples, notwithstanding the pleasure they had 
found in his society, did not, till just as he left them, discov- 
er him to be their Lord — to the present day Joseph often 
knows his brethren, whilst they know him not. And then 
afterwards they say — did not our hearts burn within us? 
True, they did. But why did not we value the blessing 
while we enjoyed it? Why did we not say, as the words of 
wisdom dropped from his mouth, it is the Lord? 

Again, a review of past favors greatly supports the mind 
under present bereavements. 

When we seem forsaken— when our affections towards 
Christ appear but cold, oh! what a privilege it is to be ena- 
bled to revert to a period when our hearts did burn within 
us, while he talked with us by the way. This thought 
cheers the drooping spirits, and raises the fainting head; it 
excites our hope too, that he will be with us again, and hold 
converse with us, even till the hour of death — yea, it makes 
us argue, that if the Lord had intended to destroy us, he 
would not have made our hearts burn within us by his di- 
vine communications. 

It is the duty and interest of us all earnestly to pray for 
the society and conversation of Christ. 

The blessing itself is so desirable, for it is to have the 
honor of dwelling and walking with Christ — and the sensa- 
tions which he, by his discourse, excites in the mind, are so 
pleasing, and delightful, that we ought earnestly to be- 
seech him to tarry with us — if he is an instructor and 



293 

companion, how short will the distance to heaven appear, 
and how light and momentary the trials of the way — Lastiy ? 

If those who travel with the Savior, are thus blessed,. 
how miserable are they who are altogether alienated from 
htm. 

Sinners, you never yet enjoyed the society of Christ, nor 
do you wish it. You are loading him with reproaches, and 
will have none of his counsel, and he will never say of you 
c they shall walk with me in white, for they are worthy;" the 
fever of lust and the torment of envy shall be your curse> 
while you live in the pains of hell, your portion after death, 
when -you will burn in "the fire that never can be quenched, 
and the smoke of your torments shall ascend up forever and 
ever." Oh! may we, instead of this awful doom, he honored 
and glorified with his constant presence in a better world — * 
so shall the chosen of Nazareth be .praised and adored by us 
. fore ve r , an d e v e i\ 



HJo. IV. 

FAREWELL SERMON AT HOXTOX. 

/fkCTS xx, 24. i But none of these tilings move me, neither 
count I my life dear unto myself so that I might' finish my 
course with joy \ and the ministry ivhich I have received of 
the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the grace of God." 

This is not the language of stoical apathy; the man who 
uttered these words, my hearers, was a man possessed of 
the keenest sensibility — a man of real, honest, and exquisite 
feeling; — -in his heart, cold indifference, and unfeeling stub- 
bornness, had no place; — nor do the words express philosoph- 
ical heroism; a foolish bravado; for our apostle derives his 
support from sources far different from these: he was ani- 
mated by principles; he was delighted with prospects which 
the natural man never possesses; the power of which princi- 
ples, and the view of which prospects, .produce an effect 
whichis mighty 'beyond=ali conception. The passage I have 
read you, introduces to our view F^ul the preacher at the 
time of his departure from his friends, when his mind was 
.led to expect, and prepared to meet, bonds ?,nd afflictions i*a ' 
*25 



294 

in. every place; and the words of the text do most strikingly 
shew us the way in which the principles of the gospel discov- 
er themselves, and prove their power to strengthen and sup- 
port. Viewing this passage as not unsuitable to the pres- 
ent opportuniiy, I shall exhibit it to your view, as shewing us 
that the principles of the gospel of Christ display their pow- 
er and virtuea 

I. In rendering us insensible to the power of affliction — * 
"none of these things move me," 

II. In raising us superior to the love of life- — "neither 
count I my life dear unto me, so that I may finish my course 
with joy, and the ministry which I have received of the 
Lord Jesus. " Let us behold here the glorious gospel of 
the blessed God. How the religion of Christ displays its 
potent influence— its mighty efficacy. 

I. In rendering us insensible to the power of affliction. 
Its supports enabled the holy zealous apostle to say of pain- 
ful separation — of the labors of the ministry,— and of the 
large measure of persecution which in that age of the church 
every where attended the preachers of the gospel, "none 
of these things move me/' Paul had, however, without 
doubt, the feelings of humanity; and, as I have already inti- 
mated, these things would affect his soul as a man^ and oc- 
casionally overwhelm his spirits; but when he felt the happy 
influence of the gospel in all its power, he triumphed over 
these difficulties; he heroically conquered himself; subdued 
his own feelings, and appeared a ready, a joyful martyr for 
Christ. Thus did Paul, yet did not he, but the grace of God 
which was in him. These trials, then, these difficulties, 
which to many would be insurmountable, did not "move' 7 
him; that is, the anticipation of them, the endurance of them, 
did not so move him as to damp his ardor — as to discourage 
his sou!, or as to make him wish to exchange with the 
world. Observe, they did not so move him 

As to damp his ardor. These trials and apparent obsta- 
cles to the success of his work, and to his own happiness in 
it, did not make him less anxiously desirous of doing good 
in the world, did not at all diminish the fervent wishes of his 
fcoul to be the means of conducting many sons unto glory. 
Notwithstanding these difficulties, he was still "steadfast, un- 
lovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, foras- 



295 

much as he knew that his labor was not in vain in the Lord/" 
And as he had this ministry, as he had received mercy* so ho 
fainted not; hence he could say to others—no man should 
be moved by these afflictions, for yourselves know that we 
were appointed thereuntOo He remembered the long cloud 
of witnesses, who through much tribulation had entered the 
kingdom, and he determined to imitate their example; he 
did more, he considered Jesus, who endured such contradic- 
tion of sinners against himself; and this prevented him from 
being weary, or from fainting in his mind: he looked unto 
Jesus the author and finisher of his faith, and by that means 
obtained encouragement to proceed, and grace sufficient for 
him. Gh! never let the servants of the most high God re- 
lax in their endeavors to do good, or grow cold in their de- 
sires after the immortal welfare of mankind because some 
difficulties await them: of these difficulties they ought to say 
"none of these things move me/ 3 Nor did these trials so 
affect the apostle 

As to discourage his soul; that is, to make him shrink at 
the thought of enduring them — to make him afraid to meet 
them — no — for, supported by the consolations of the gospel, 
he could welcome reproaches, pain and death; yea, rejoice 
and be exceeding glad that he was counted worthy to suffer 
for the sake of the Lord Jesus. 'What mean ye,' says he 
elsewhere, 'what mean ye to weep and to break mine hearty 
for I am ready not to be bound only, but also to die at Jeru- 
salem for the name of the Lord Jesus. 5 Divine grace so 
supported him, that though he was troubled on every side, 
he was not distressed; though perplexed, he was not in des- 
pair; though persecuted, *he was not forsaken; though cast 
down, he was not destroyed. I suffer, says he, these things, 
nevertheless I am not ashamed, 'for I know whom 1 have be- 
lieved, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which 
I have committed unto him, until that day.' Thus he could 
endure, and the Savior enabled him to suffer as well as to 
preach for him, and none of these things moved him. 

Finally, they did not so move him as to make him wish to 
exchange with the world. 

Because he thus reckoned, that the sufferings of this pres- 
ent life are not worthy to be compared with the glory that 
should be revealed in us. He saw that 'our light affliction, 



Which is but for a moment, worketh out for us a far more 
exceeding and eternal weight of glory/ He looked not at 
the things which are seen, which are temporal, but at the 
things which are not seen, which are eternal. There was a 
pleasure even connected with the sufferings which far ex- 
celled the joy of worldlings; hence he says, 4 I am filled with 
comfort; I am exceeding joyful in all our tribulation.* For 
the Lord stood by him and strengthened him; yea, the Lord 
delivered him from every evil work, and preserved him to 
his heavenly kingdom. The apostle, taught Ly the Spirit of 
God, loved even the difficulties of his Master's service far 
better than the ease and the pleasures of the world. Ohi 
that like him, we may wisely count the reproach of Christ 
greater riches than all the treasures of this world— prefer 
even the worst, the most painful circumstances in the cause 
of the Savior, to the most fascinating pleasures of the world — • 
to the enjoyments which the men who knew not God, reck- 
on most valuable and most dear; thus shall we shew that we 
are willing to be any thing that the Savior chooses, so that 
he may be glorified: thus shall we shew that we speak the 
feelings of our hearts, when we say of the difficulties of our 
work 4 none of these things move me. 5 Thus was the apos- 
tle enabled to enjoy strong consolations in the midst of trials. 
Thus did Immanuei's grace quicken him to diligence and 
fortifv his mind against the numerous ills that flesh is heir 
to. Gh! that the Spirit of glory and of God would rest on 
us also; that all our duties may be so discharged, and all our 
trials s© endured, as that the power of the gospel may be 
evinced, and the supporting grace of the great Head of the 
Church abundantly magnifiedo And what can so teach us 
to endure trials as the religion of Christ? What supports 
have infidels, mere moralists, and speculative philosophers, 
like those which may be derived from the fulness of our 
Lord Jesus Christ? Theirs are refuges of lies, ours a 
never failing foundation., 'Their rock is not as our rock, 
even our enemies themselves being judges/ The gospel 
of Christ presents the only sovereign balm for human wo; 
it supplies us with real, and with sure support; it emboldens 
us to ?:,y, in the face of difficulties, dangers, and death, 
^None of -these things move me/ The gospel, however. 



29? 

'does not merely display its power in rendering us insensible 
to the power of affliction, but 

(II.) In raising us superior to the love of life. 

For, adds the apostle, 'neither count I my life dear unto 
myself, so that I may finish my course with joy.' 'Skin for 
skin, yea all that a man hath, will he give for his life.' The 
preservation of life is the first law of nature. That man is 
unworthy the character of a rational being, who intentionally 
shortens, or daringly terminates his own iife. And yet here a 
man comes forward and says, 'neither count I my life dear 
unto myself — and he is taught to form this estimation of 
life too, by the gospel of Jesus! How is this? The apostle 
did not choose strangling rather than life; but the case may 
be stated thus. The gospel taught him the right use of life, 
and made him earnestly to desire to fulfil it: the gospel 
taught him as a minister, that life was only valuable to him 
so far as he accomplished its purposes — the joyful comple- 
tion of his Christian race, the honorable close of his min- 
isterial exertions. Further than this, life was not dear to 
him, or highly prifced by him, for he was willing to be 'ab- 
sent from the body, and to be present with 4he Lord.' His 
earnest expectation and his hope was, that in nothing he 
should be ashamed, but that 'with all boldness, as always so 
now Christ should be magnified in his body, whether it were 
by life or by death/ 'Yea, 5 says he, 'and if I be offered upon 
the sacrifice and -service of your faith, I joy and rejoice with 
you all.' Oh! what a noble principle is this that renders a 
man willing to suffer and to die for Christ, 'for herein per- 
ceive we the love of God, because he laid down his life for 
us; and we ought ahso to lay down our lives for the breth- 
ren.' And now it is said of the apostle, and all who like 
him triumphed over satan, ^they were faithful unto death. 5 
They overcome him by the blood of the Lamb 5 for they lov- 
ed not their lives unto death. But I digress from the sub- 
ject. Observe, then, that the gospel raised the mind of 
Paul superior to the love of life, as it shewed him that it was 
only useful for two purposes: 

(I.) That he might joyfully complete his Christian race, 
So he says, 'that I may finish my course with joy/ The 
course to which he alludes is the Christian race, which he 
had some time before undertaken in divine strength. God 



£98 

Md called him so to run, that he might obtain, and hence 
he 'laid aside every weight, and the sin which so easily be- 
set him, and rati with patience the race set before him, look- 
ing unto Jesus 5 He set out with a full determination never 
to grow weary, or to decline his eager pursuit after glory, 
honor and immortality. Hitherto he had pursued it with 
alacrity; he did not count himself to have apprehended; but 
this one thing he did, forgetting those things which were 
behind, and reaching for-h unto those things which were 
before, he pressed toward the mark for the prize of the high 
calling of God in Christ Jesus, Personal religion had flour- 
sshed in his soul, and he had not left the riath marked out 
for him, by the great Forerunner, to be led aside either to 
the right hand or to the left, and now he wished to finish 
it with joy, and that man finishes his course with joy when 
he expresses gratitude for any ardor he has discovered in it, 
and when he has a full view of the crown of glory, and pros- 
pect of eternal rest» To finish out course with joy, we 
must express our gratitude for the assistance grace has of- 
fered us in it. [When a Christian can say, through the 
good hand of my God upon me, the care of his love, and the 
animation of his grace, <I have finished my course. 'J Oh! 
what pleasure it must afford a believer who completes his 
race on earth, to look back upon the path he has trod, and to 
remember even the trials he endured, and to bless God that 
he was enabled to persevere to the end. The Christian 
race cannot be joyfully completed without a bright prospect 
of eternal glory and a splendid crown. The man finished 
this race with joy who could say, 'henceforth there is laid 
up forme a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the 
righteous Judge, will give me in that day.' Let others run 
to obtain a corruptible crown, we do it for an incorruptible. 
Androhl that when we finish our course it may be with 
this firm persuasion, that we shall enter into the joy of our 
Lord, where toil and fatigire will be known no more. 3Fof 
this purpose life is of use, as it conducts us to the end of the 
Christian race. But the apostle views himself not only as 
a Christian but as a minister of the New Testament, and 
therefore he views life as desirable 

(2) That he might honorably close his ministerial exer- 
tions. That I may finish, says he, my -course with joy, and 



2m 

the ministry which I have received of the Lord Jesuso 
Here you behold the author of the gifts and the graces of 
ministers 'the Lord Jesus-' The Lord had said of Paul* 
'he is a chosen vessel unto me to bear my name unto the 
Gentiles.' And he had received his ministry of the Lord 
Jesus. The subjects of his ministry came from him, for he 
taught him to preach human depravity— the atonement of 
Christ and the influence of the Spirit, and to be witness un- 
to all, for Jesus, of what he had seen aid heard His call to 
the ministry was from the Lord Je#s. He toid him to pub? 
]ish the gospel, and irr mediately he conferred not with flesh and 
blood. He was an apostle not of man, nor by man, but by Jesus 
Christ and God the Father. His qualifications for the min- 
istry came from the Lord Jesus — he gave hint a freedom of 
speech- — he made him apt to teach — he furnished him with 
wisdom and knowledge— he made him a minister that need- 
ed not be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth. His 
success in the ministry was from the Lord Jesus — he made 
him fruitful, and he made him useful — lie opened the hearts 
of his hearers — he attended his message with the power of 
his Spirit — he gave testimony to the word of his grace. 
Thus he assisted him in his work— owned him as an honor- 
ed servant, nor suffered him to labor in vain, or spend his 
strength for nought. Now, he wishes to close this ministry 
with joy. He does not want to leave it—- to quit it for world- 
ly ease; but to go on in it to the end of his life. He does 
not wish to grow weary in well doing; but to persevere to 
the last; and thus finishing his work, he would do it with joy, 
as he would review instances of usefulness, and behold the 
grace of the Lord of the harvest, in raising up more labor- 
ers f o enter into his vineyard. A minister closes his work 
with joy, when he reviews instances of usefulness, when he 
knows that there are many whom he may view as his joy and 
crown of rejoicing— that he shall have to say of a goodly- 
number, here am I, Father, and -the children which thou 
hast given me. Thus'our Lord rejoiced at the close of his 
labors, saying, ( I have given them thy word — I have finish- 
ed the work which thou gavest me to do.' So also does the 
good minister finish his course with joy, when he beholds 
other laborers crowned with success in the vineyard— when 
he dies with the full confidence that Zion's glory increases; 



SCO 

at>d that the work of the Lord is promoted. He rejoices thai 
others shall enter into his labors, and that by their exer-. 
tions the Savior will be honored when he is cold in the dust. 
Thus he rejoicesr that instead of the lathers, he raises up, 
the children, and that the Savior's name shall be known to 
all generations. Happy man; like Simeon, thou shalt de- 
part in peace — like him, thou sbalt have the Savior enclos- 
ed in thine arms, and eternal glory lull in thy view. 

Let those of us who are aged in the ministry imitate the 
apostle's example. .^. 

Students be diligent— honor Christ, and the Holy Spirit--, 
aim sincerely to do good—be not afraid of difficulties — let 
us go on, &c. Sec. 

In so doing, we shall both save ourselves and those that, 
hear us. A me a. 

No. V. 

ADDRESS AT LAYING THE FOUNDATION-STONE OF THE, 
NEW CHAPEL. 

* And this stone, which I have set for a fiillar, shall be God's 
house. 9 So said the patriarch Jacob on a memorable occa- 
sion, and so may we say, assembled as we are to lay the 
foundation-stone of an edifice to God. We have found out 
a place for the Lord-- an habitation for th§ mighty God of 
Jacob: beholding this spot of ground on this interesting 
morning, a thousand delightful sensations pervade our souls, 
and we are ready to anticipate the presence of the Great 
Eternal in this place, for 4 is not this the hill which God hath 
chosen to dwell in it forever?' Let us please ourselves with 
believing, that here holy incense shall ascend to God — that 
from this place the voice of prayer and praise shall rise 
tuneful to the court of heaven—that here pious men shall 
enjoy the sublime happiness of devotion— -that here the un- 
godly and the sinner shall be induced to begin their lives 
anew. How often may many have to say, on the very ground 
we tread, 'How dreadful is this place! this is none other 
than the house of God, and the gate of heaven.' The mas- 
ter of worshipping assemblies, Jehovah, by whose call con- 
gregations assemble, and by whose blessing their souls ar§ 



301 

benefitted, may here afford his. watchful care, his. animating 
smiles: we have every reason to believe he will do it, en- 
treated by the earnest and fervent supplications of the men 
he loves; himself inclined to bless the gates of Zion, his 
eyes and his heart shall be here perpetually; with pleasure 
will he behold the favored spot; and in the liberality of his 
heart afford to his assembled saints an earnest, a foretaste, 
a lively representation of what those happy spirits know and 
feel who are ever with the Lord. 

We flatter ourselves, that the erection of an edifice like 
this is the effect of benevolent feeling to mankind, and an ar- 
dent love to the Great Lord of all. We unite in endeavor- 
ing to maintain the honor of the Savior's name, and to sup- 
port the glory of his cross. We feel, and deeply too, the ne- 
cessity of possessing somewhat more than this earth can af- 
ford: we regard men as immortals, and we know that there 
are blessings, without the enjoyment of which, those souls 
will experience continued disappointment .ere, and will 
languish forever in another world, These necessary and ho- 
ly blessings, the Eternal has chosen to communicate by the 
instrumentality of a preached gospel We know that Jeho- 
vah, in making up the number of his elect, works by means; 
therefore it is that we endeavor to bring that gospel, the re- 
port of which is indeed a joyful sound, to the ears of man- 
kind, praying that the blessed Spirit would send it to their 
hearts. The erection of this place is a direct attack against 
— against whom? say my hearers, alarmed at the idea of hos- 
tility — against the Church of England? No! God forbid; 
the very reverse of all this. We cheerfully take the present 
opportunity of informing this numerous auditory, that the 
doctrines which will be proclaimed on this ground will ex- 
actly correspond, will be just the same* wifti those contained 
in the dcctriral articles of the Church of England, which are 
the bulwarks of its faith, and maybe read in most of the 
Books of Common Prayer. Is it, then, you ask again, an at- 
tack against any other congregation, or body of professing 
Christians.' My soul revolts and spurns at the idea; for in 
the cause of Immanuel we wish cordially and constantly to 
unite with all those who believe in the Lord Jesus, both theirs 
and ours. But in one word, this is an attack directed 
against the kingdom of Satan, and the prince of darkness, 
26 



302 

object is the translation of our fellow creatures from his 
fvateful power and dominion, and their transition into the 
family of the blessed househokhof their Redeemer. With 
the sword of the Spirit we wish to combat the old serpent 
the devih In this large and populous town he has maintain- 
ed his seat, he has reigned and triumphed: we long to see 
him fall, like lightning from heaven; and hence we preach 
that glorious gospel which opposes his works, which res- 
cues from his power, which gives us to expect a final .tri- 
umph over him and his followers. 

Here we expect that the preaching of the cross will be 
heard— that self-righteousness will in no shape meet with 
encouragement—that man will be representedas nothing, and 
Christ as all in all. We erect no altar to an unknown God, 
but are boldly confessing, that we wish everyday to approach 
the Father of Spirits, through the mediation cf God our Sa- 
vior, and all this -by the gracious aicTof the Holy Spirit* 
And are any of us so hardened, through the deceitfulness of 
kin, as not to wish that here many souls may be born to God 
■ — may be trained up for heaven: or shall we not, at the last 
great day rejoice to see a goodly company of men, who on 
this spot shall have met with the Savior Jesus, and commen- 
ced an honorable path to heaven. We rejoice in the thought, 
that the cause is God's and must prevail, and with pleasure 
we celebrate the growing empire of our King. His church 
must flourish, because it is purchased with his blood, 
and preserved by bis grace. The names of the several de- 
nominations among which it is scattered may be lost and 
forgotten, but its numbers shall increase, and its honors 
spread to the end of time. 

The Episcopa/Ian church may totter to the ground; the 
Presbyterian church may be known no more; the Indepen- 
dent church may no longer exist as a separate body; but the 
true church, made up of many of all these, and confined to 
no one of them, shall increase yet more and more, and ever 
be acknowledged the Zion of the Lord, the city of the Holy 
One of Israel. 

Tj*ls morning have' we cause for gratitude, that amidst the 
spread of infidelity, and a vain philosophy the work of God 
is not forgotten, that still his churches rise and flourish; that 
jStiy souls are born to;God 5 and the saints shout aloud for 



303 

joy. In the sanctuaries where we worship, we have the so- 
lace of oar cares, a kind refreshment afforded us in our jour- 
ney to heaven, and new light and joy bestowed. May all 
this be known amongst us — be known by posterity when we 
are cold in death. 

I cannot lose sight of the opportunity which this morning 
affords me, of assuring this large and- mixed assembly, that 
real religion is a personal thing; that the gospel we preach 
must be believed, and its consolations enjoyed, or there re- 
mains for us no hope of pardon or of pence. My fellow im- 
mortals you have all sinned, and come short of the glory of 
God: but we exhibit to you a blessed and perfect Redeemer! 
Believe in him, and you shall not be confounded world with- 
out end. And when I meet you in an assembly, far larger 
and more solemn than this, I mean at the judgment tidy, 
you shall be accepted of him; yea, believing in him, you 
shall then enter a temple, not made with hands, eternal in 
the heavens; and forever adore the hand that formed it, the 
grace that conducted us to it^and tive Savior who fills it with 
kis glory. AmeiK* 

On Wednesday, May 29, 18 12, the Cha^l was Solemnly 
dedicated to God. On this interesting occasion, the Rev. P. 

5. Charrier, of Bethesda chapel, Liverpool, commenced the 
morning service by reading a suitable portion of scripture, 
and offering up a solemn and appropriate prayer. The Rev. 
William Jay, of Bath, delivered a sermon from Psalm cx^ii, 

6, • They shall /tr 'os per thai love thee. 9 The Rev. Mr. Lister^ 
of Lime-street chapel, concluded by prayer. In the even- 
'mg, the service was opened by reading of the scriptures and 
prayer, By the Rev. Joshua Fletcher, A.M. of Blackburn* 
The Rev. Dv. Collyer, of Peckham, preached from I John 
iv, 8. ^God islove\ The Rev. Mr. Kershaw, of Edinburgh, 
concluded by prayer. 

* This is evidently but a rude outline of what was delivered on that interest- 
ing occasion. The effect produced upon the immense auditory which he ad- 
dressed was remarkably strong — and every effect must have an adequate, 
cause. 



i04 



No. VI. 

MR. SPENCER'S ANSWERS TO THE QUESTIONS PROPOSED TD 
HIM AT HIS ORDINATION. 

What motives have induced you to enter upon the 
important work of the Christian Ministry? 

As the religion of the Bible appears in my estimation the 
best blessing Jehovah has bestowed upon the world, I, from 
the humble hope that it has shed its influence on my owa 
heart, am impressed with an earnest wish to be the instru- 
ment of conveying its holy advantages to my fellow immor- 
talsl I say from the hope that I am interested in its blessings; 
for in no one sentiment am I more fully established than that 
the ministers of God should be men of God; that personal 
religion is a most indispensable requisite i ■• all who grasp at 
the honor of being the servants of Christ and his churches. 
That it has pleased God, who separated me from my moth- 
er's womb, to call me by his grace* and reveal his Son in me, 
I am led to hope or I dare not ihink of the Christian ministry! 
From my earliest Infancy, having been blessed with a relig- 
ious education, my mind was powerfully impressed with the 
solemnities of death and judgment; and often have such im- 
pressions been the means of drawing me to earnest secret 
prayer, at a very early period of my existence. Yet did I, 
as I advanced in age and stature, give proofs, awfully evident? 
frequently since distressing to my mind, of the dreadful de- 
pravity of my nature, and of the necessity of that great 
change, which I then accurately judged had not really pass- • 
ed on my soul. But God remembered me in mercy: The 
Holy -pirit made use of the preaching of the gospel at 
Hertford by various ministers of our own denomination, as 
also by several in the connexion of the late Countess of Hun- 
tingdon, to enlighten my mind in the knowledge of him, 
gradually he drew me to himself; and, I trust, imparted to 
me,- for my best treasure, his love in my heart, the salvation 
of Christ, with its attendant blessings. Viewing myself, 
then, as a young sinner, blest with special favors, I deter- 
mined I would not live to myself, but to Him who I believed 
had loved me, and given himself for me. I cast myself upon 



505 

his care; I Implored his direction as to ray future step-,; I 
longed to be engaged in the holy ministry, yet God is my 
record that I trembled at the idea of rushing into his service; 
ot assuming, with daring temerity, a character I was so unfit 
to bear. I resolved that I would wait for the direction of his 
providence, and then go on in his strength. Christian friends 
urged me to devote myself to the work of the Lord; my own 
mind eagerly seconded their proposals; yet the consideration 
of my youth, and the dread that I was unprepared for the 
employment, held me back from the attempt, till after a little 
while my acquaintance with Mr. Thomas Wilson commenc- 
ed: encouraged by him in the hope that I might be a laborer 
for God, I commenced preparatory studies for the ministry, 
under the direction of my honored friend, the Rev. William 
Hordle, of Harwich, and, recommended by him, entered the 
seminary at Itoxton. Thus, Sir, a persuasion of the great 
importance of the preaching of the gospel, a consciousness 
that God had imparted to me that tone of mind which seemed 
adapted to the employment, the earnest wishes of intelligent 
and useful Cnristians, the clear and evident direction of di- 
vine Providence, and, I hope, the glow of zeal for the honor 
of our glorious Redeemer and the good of man, united to* 
gether to direct my [comingl to the ministry of the word. 

Why do you choose to exercise your Ministry 
among Protestant Dissenters? 

The close alliance of the church [of England] with the 
state, were there no other argument against it, would be 
enough to influence my mind in refusing to enter within its 
pale. But my conscience also objects to many of the terms 
of communion it imposes, and its acknowledgment of a hu- 
man head; to several of its prescribed ceremonies, which 
appear to me unlike the simplicity that is in Christ, and verv 
unnatural characteristics of a kingdom which cannot be of 
this world.* Yet, while, these are a^>y decided sentiments, I 

* The objections here stated by Mr. Spencer to the Episcopal Church, and 
-which deterred him .from, entering within its pale, appear on examination 
either of so little Weight jo themselves, or s > destitute of foundation, as to ren- 
der it obvious that their influence on a mind so distinguishe J for its piety and 
!ove of tr ath, mnst have been owing; to the eai'iy bias of education rather than to 
their own intrinsic importance. The cio^e alliance of the (Jh arch of i>nH?id> 

*2Z 



308 

fcluul always respect and love the zealous followers of the 
Lamb, whom Heaven acknowledges, as his friends among 
the members of the established church. May grace, rnercy $ 
and peace, ever be with them; may the work of God succeed 

•with the state, and it's acknowledgment of a human head, are circumstances 
Sibout which different opinions have been entertained. But they appear so 
consonant to the prediction of the prophet respecting the prosperity of the 
Christian Church, that Kings should be her nursing fathers, and their Queens 
her nursing mothers, that it seems not a little surprising that they should in 
any instance have proved a stone of stumbling and a rock of offence even to 
the most scrupulous conscience. That such an aliiance is inconsistent either 
with the letter or spirit of the gospel, no person of candor and reflection will 
venture to assert; and that their influence on the established Church of Eng- 
land, far from being injurious, is highly favorable to the maintenance and dif- 
fusion of pure and undefiled religion, is evident from the acknowledged purity 
of her doctrines and worship, from the lives and writings of thousands who have 
ministered at her altar, and from her unexampled and increasing liberality 
and zeal in sending the scriptures of truth, and the messengers of salvation to 
the ends of the earth. But these objections, whatever weight may be attached 
to them, cannot he urged against the Episcopal Church in this country, because 
ih'ev do not exist. 

Mr. Spencer's conscience, he tells us, also objects to many of the terms of com- 
munion, imposed by the Church. What these objectionable terms are he does 
not specify, nor is it easy to imagine. The only terms she imposes we learn 
from the rubrick prefixed to her Communion service, and from her catechism, 
vi hich teaches what is required of those who come to the Lord's table. In the 
former she directs that "So many as intend to be partakers of the Holy Com- 
munion, shcdl signify their names to the ciwate, at least some time the day be- 
fore" In the latter she requires those who come to the Lord's supper "to ex- 
amine themselves -whether they repent them truly of their former sins, sted- 
f ust I y purposing to lead a new life; have a lively faith in'GocVs mercy through 
'Christ, with a thankful remembrance of his death; and be in charity with 
ullinen" Not materially different are the requisitions of the Protestant Epis- 
copal Church in this country; and will any unprejudiced person say, can he 
say, that his conscience objects to any of these terms? Mr. S. further objects 
to several of "the prescribed ceremonies of the Church. Her principal ceremonies 
^.re the postures of standing, kneeling, and sitting, during different parts of her 
service, and the cross in baptism, (the latter of which is not absolutely enjoin- 
ed by the Church in this country, bat may be used or omitted at the dis- 
cretion of the minister.) So far from being objectionable, these ceremonies 
s».re obviously adapted to the nature of man, approve themselves to the judg- 
ment of impartial reason, and manifestly add to the solemnity, and increase 
the fervor of public devotions. Is it c -edible then that they should ever have 
occasioned scruples of conscience, or have been urged as serious objections to 
the Church by which they are prescribed? These remarks are subjoined 
tiOlely with a view to obviate in the mind of the reader of this interesting nar- 
rative, the erroneous ideas respecting the discipline and worship of theP. E. 
Q. which the objections of Mr. S. seems calculated to convey. His unqualified 
approbation, of her doctrines, expressed in his Address at laying the founda- 
tion stone o'fihe new Chapel; and the respect and love he professed for ii the 



307 

among them. From all that I can collect irorn the New 
Testament, it appears obvious to me, that all that is meant 
by a church of Christ, is a company of faithful men deter- 
mining to unite together in his faith and service- — bowing to 
his directions*— -submissively yielding themselves up to him 
— and resolving to walk, in all his ordinances and command- 
ments, blameless! These churches are, I believe, to be 
found among those of the congregational order, and there- 
fore I am united to them.* 



What are the principal topics on which you mean 
to insist in your future ministrations? 

My earnest ambition, Sir, is to declare the whole counsel of 
God, and to give to every one his portion of meat in clue sea- 
son. In order that this may be effectually done, 1 know that 
the Mediator's excellencies must be particularly displayed, 
and the glories of the cross largely insisted on* I intend, 
Sir, in humble dependence on the strength of Christ, with- 
out regarding either the smiles or the frowns of man, to en- 
deavor to approve myself the faithful servant of God. In my 
discourses, Christ shall be all in all. His person, work, and 
great salvation, shall be constantly exhibited in their bear- 
ings, upon every part of the scheme of religion I have beheld 
in the Bible, and admired. The solemn truth, that man is 
totally depraved, and altogether defiled by sin; the necessity 
of regeneration; the suitableness of the atonement our Lord 
has made; the nature and blessedness of the influences of 
the Holy Spirit; the various consolations and directions con- 
tained in the gospel of Christ, shall all be illustrated and dis- 
cussed in my ministry, according to the ability Jehovah shall 

zealous followers of the Lamb, whom heaven acknowledges as Ms friends 
the members of the established Church" induces the belief, that a candid and 
thorough examination of her government and worship would have greatly 
lessened, if notentirely removed the objections he has here stated. 

Am, Ed. 
* Before the reader implicitly adopts Mr. Spencer's idea of the Church of 
Christ, he is advised to read a Discourse on Church Government by the Rev. 
John Potter, D. D. aud Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity. The reasonableness 
and beauty of the public service of the Episcopal Church have been well de- 
fended aid illustrated in a volume of discourses on the Liturgy by Charles 
Simeon; aud in the Beauty of Holiness in the Common Prayer, by Thomas 
Bisse, D. IX Am. Ed. 



308 

bfestow. The doctrines of grace shall maintain a high prece- 
dence in all my ministrations: yet will I with the most indus- 
trious care, labor to shew that they are doctrines according 
to godliness. The holiness of the religion of Christ shall be 
enforced from every subject. Thus will I labor to secure 
the approbation of God., to preserve an honest and good con- 
science, to promote the glory ©f the great and precious Re- 
deemer of sinners, and to win souls to Christ. The terrors 
of the Lord shall be declared to the ungodly; the sure sup. 
port of our covenant Lord shall be preached to the faithful! 
and Christ shall be preached to- all. 

CONFESSION OF FAITH. 

1 do ; Sir, with pleasure, in the presence of this congrega* 
%ion, deliver to you the sentiments I hold dear to my heart, 
and those views of the truth as it is in Jesus; which, having- 
imbibed myself, I intend to communicate to my fellow men. 
The sentiments I hold I trace up to their source when I men- 
tion the Bible, the book of God, which holy volume, attested 
by every evidence that consistency, diguity, purity, miracles 
and divine effects can afford, I receive as the standard of 
truth, as God's revelation of his own mind and. will to men. 
Regarding the Bible, then, as able to make us wise unto sal- 
vation, I receive as positive and important truths, ail that it 
teaches concerning God, the world, salvation, heaven, and 
hell. I believe, then, from the testimony of divine truth, that 
God is a spirit, holy, infinite, unchangeable, and perfect in ail 
the attributes of deity. That in the Godhead, there are three 
divine and glorious persons, equal in power and honor — the 
Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit*. This sublime mystery 
3 dare not attempt to explain; because I know, that we can- 
not by searching find out God, nor trace the Almighty to 
perfection. Yet do I most cordially receive the fact, admir- 
ing the various parts each of them has undertaken in the 
economy of our salvation, and adoring a triune God as the.- 
proper object of Christian worship, I believe that Jeho- 
vah's omniscience foresaw from all eternity. all the events, 
that should take place in the universe, and that he orders all 
things alter the counsel of his own will. I believe that his 
almighty power created ail the things that do appear, and 



300 

sail supports and upholds them in the state of existence 
in which he has wisely placed them. I believe that the 
persons in the Godhead did, foreseeing the fall and ruin of 
Adam and his posterity, enter into a covenant engagement 
with each other, that through their grace, the lost rebel 
might he restored to divine favor and friendship, and to com- 
munion with the whole Trinity* In this covenant, I believe 
all the blessings of grace are deposited for all the faithful; 
Christ is its surety. He has made that atonement this cov- 
enant secured, and the blessed Spirit communicates the 
happy effects of it to the souls of all good men. It was hy 
virtue of the arrangement of this covenant that Christ ap- 
peared once in the end of time, to put away sin by the sacri- 
fice of himself. Gradual discoveries of his glory have been 
made to the Jewish church; but at length he cams to re- 
deem Jacob, to ransom him out of the hand of him that was 
stronger than he» By his sufferings, his obedience unto 
death, and the whole of his mediatorial work, I believe he 
has purchased the church; redeemed and saved the goodly 
company of men, who by the Eternal Father were 
for this purpose given into* his hands before time began. 
And having on earth finished the work given him to do, I 
believe that he ascended to glory, sat down at the right hand 
of the Majesty on high* and ever liveth to make intercession 
for sinners, that their corruptions may be purified, their gra- 
ces may be matured, and they be nnaUy with him, where he 
is, to behold his glory. I believe that the Holy Spirit works 
on the human mind, when the time, the set time^ to favor 
the individual, is corne; that he affects the heart with com- 
punction for sin; that by the instrumentality of the gospel, 
he calls the sinner out of darkness into marvellous light; 
that by the influence of divine truth, he sanctifies the soul; 
that by the application of the promises of scripture, and by 
his own internal witness, he gives strong consolation to the 
heirs of God, for such I consider those whom he has convin- 
ced of sin, and led to Jesus; called, enlightened, sealed, and 
established, they give evidence of a divine work upon their 
souls, by appearing in the beauties of holiness; by adorning 
the doctrtne of God, their Savior, in all things; such char- 
acters I believe that Jenovah views as his church on earth; 
his family, below, only separated by de^th from the blest so- 



310 

ciety above; and for their sakes all nature stands; to promote 
their present and eternal happiness, the gospel was publish- 
ed in the world; ministers have been commissioned to serve 
the Lord, and qualified for the office; separate churches have 
been raised; the ordinances of Christ's appointment, viz 
the Lord's supper administered to believers in Jesus; and 
Baptism, designed for those who from heathen countries 
were proselyted to the Christian faith, and for all the in- 
fants of believers~have been preserved amongst us. In 
their hearts, the fruits of grace must abound; they must 
walk with God, and be conformed to the divine image. Such 
characters must, I believe, endure to the end, and be saved; 
their perseverance, I consider as resting on the power of 
God, on the nature of the covenant — -Divine faithfulness, and 
the very tendency of the principles of grace* I consider 
justification from sin; the pardon of every offence; the 
gradual sanctification of the soul, and its preparation for 
heaven, as all blessings of grace, freely bestowed upon the 
unworthy; obtained without money and without price. I 
view the preaching of the gospel as God's appointed means 
for the translation of sinners fgom darkness to light, and for 
the edification of his mystical body, the church, by the exhi- 
bition of Christ crucified, it has pleased God to save them 
that believe. 

Through the grace of God every humble believer will, I- 
know, eventually appear before the Savior in glory ever- 
lasting. To that state of joy and felicity, I believe all real 
Christians to be daily tending; and am happily persuaded, 
from the testimony of God, that those who serve him here 
shall reigi* with him above. Hence the spirit of a good man 
when it is separated from the body, is by its beloved Savior, 
received to the final dwelling of the just, where it waits for 
the time appointed for the trumpet to sound, and the dead to 
be raised, to be again united to the body, then glorified, and 
made like the body of the Redeemer. 

I anticipate, Sir, the last judgment — I believe that God is 
coming to vindicate the right of his own government; to de- 
clare the equity of his holy providence, at which we have in 
our ignorance often murmured; to banish the impenitent* 
the unholy, and all who would not obey the gospel, into tor- 
ments, more awful tjian we can ever imagine, and lasting as 



.311 

the existence of the soul. On that day, Sir, I believe that 
we shall give an account of ourselves unto God, and if found 
.clothed in the Mediator's righteousness, we shall be declar- 
ed approved of God, and welcomed to the joys of heaven. 
This* Sir, is the outline of what I conceive to be the faith 
delivered to the saints; these are the fixed principles I have 
cordially received myself, and intend to make known to 
others. Oh! that my faith in them may be operative and in- 
fluential, in supporting my mintl under the severe, sharp tri- 
als, with which my Father in heaven has thought fit to exer- 
cise me; and may I be enabled, in simplicity and godly sin- 
cerity, to declare these truths to the people of my charge. 

In the presence of God, then, his holy angels, those his 
servants in the ministry, and this assembled congregation, I 
resign myself, my body and soul, my ministry, my all, to the 
care and protection of the Great Head of the Church. 

4 The Lord God. of my fathers be with me, as he was with 
them: let him not leave me, nor forsake me.' And I most 
earnestly and humbly request the prayers of my own congre- 
gation, of my brethren and fathers in the ministry, and of all 
who witness these solemnities, that God would enable me to 
fulfil the duties of my -sphere, that he would ever preserve 
me from backsliding in religion, that he would fix my way- 
ward heart, and preserve it alive to God; that the ministry be 
not blamed. 

I do solemnly determine, as far as in me lies, to live to his 
glory; to set a watch over my temper, speech and deport- 
ment, that they may not disgrace the gospel of Christ. I 
purpose, relying on the all-sufficient grace of the Master 
whom I serve, that I will be instant in season and out of sea- 
son; that I will reprove, rebuke, exhort with all long suffer- 
ing; that I will labor as for God, and as in the immediate 
prospect of eternity. May he assist me to instruct the igno- 
rant — to cheer and direct the sick and the dying — to influ- 
ence the young to rise aod foUow Christ— and to do real and 
extensive good in this large and populous town; and when I 
ha\e done the labors allotted for mt below, after having spent 
a holy and an useful life — oh! may I but hear the Lord say, 
'well done, good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of thy 
Lordo* Amen. 

FINIS. 



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